


Flashpoints 2.0

by inqwex



Series: All Roads Lead To Rome [6]
Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:35:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inqwex/pseuds/inqwex
Summary: Scenes, ficlets, drabbles, AUs about Station 19 as a way of burning my anxious energy in this current international crisis. Will involve various characters. Not chronological or necessarily connected.Chapter 7: Vic's Bad Shift. Rated M.
Relationships: Victoria Hughes/Lucas Ripley
Series: All Roads Lead To Rome [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1269554
Comments: 120
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vic answers her phone. Rated G.

Andy was shook.

It was strange to see the Chief - usually so inflappable and tall and intimidating - look small and sick in the bed, stripped of his uniform. 

Stranger still to learn that the Chief had been buying flowers when he'd collapsed. Look, he was a good-looking man, clearly, but Andy couldn't imagine him having a partner or doing romantic things for that partner. It was kind of like imagining your elementary school teacher having a girlfriend.

She could see where the young doctor with the big glasses might have thought he was gay, but the name Vic meant something very different to her - and so the thing that shook her most was Sullivan's reluctant but calm assertion that Vic was short for Victoria.

Andy glanced at Warren, relieved to see him looking similarly baffled. 

The Chief started to stir. "Vic," he said, sounding dazed, trying to sit up. Sullivan and the doctors immediately pressed him back down. "Vic, where is Vic?"

Sullivan assured him that he would call Vic, and left the room quickly. Andy followed after.

Vic. Bright, loud, gossipy, impulsive, _young_ Vic.

Sleeping with the _Chief_.

All she could think was _what_ , _how_ , _why_ , WHEN _, how long_ and _what?!_

"Dispatch, it's Captain Sullivan, 19. Get me Hughes," Sullivan said into his radio, completely ignoring her. "Hughes, it's Sullivan. I need you and Montgomery at Grey Sloan now. Don't ask questions, it's an order." 

Vic sounded confused, but said, "yes, Captain." Sullivan clicked his radio off. 

"I'll tell her when she gets here," he said gruffly, almost more to himself. "No point freaking her out over the radio."

"Seriously, how long?!" Andy demanded, looking up at her boss.

Sullivan looked uncomfortable. "A while," he said evasively. "It's not really my business to tell."

"I just can't believe she hasn't told us," Andy said. Sullivan shot her a look, but didn't respond.

* * *

It seemed to take forever for Vic and Travis to arrive. Andy knew better than to press her luck, so simply waited in an awkward silence with Sullivan out in the ambulance bay. [It wasn't like she had anywhere else to be].

"Captain," Montgomery swung out of the aid car. "What's up?" Hughes followed him, looking sullen.

"Hughes," Sullivan ignored Montgomery. "Ripley's inside, he collapsed -"

"What?" Andy watched in fascination as Vic suddenly went pale. Travis reached out to steady her automatically - Andy narrowed her eyes at him, it figured _he_ got told. "Is he okay? What -"

"He's fine - well, there's something wrong with his heart -" Sullivan stumbled, and Vic's face went paler, but her expression firmed into the familiar, stubborn face Andy was used to. 

"Where is he?" she demanded, brushing off Travis and pushing inside. Sullivan, Andy, and Travis hurried after her. Sullivan, with his long arms, indicated the bay that Ripley had been in. Vic charged in through the automatic doors, stopping dead in her tracks to see only a pacing Warren and no bed.

"He's just gone for a CT scan of his head," Warren said hurriedly, obviously in response to the expression on Vic's face. "He'll be back really soon."

"Sullivan said it was his heart!" Vic said, her voice high, sounding almost...

Well...almost hysterical.

"He collapsed and hit his head pretty hard," Sullivan said, almost gently. "He seemed a little confused before but the first thing he did was ask for you."

"We were supposed to have breakfast," Vic said faintly. "He never turned up and I assumed..." This time, Travis put his arm around her waist and she let him pull her into a hug, her next words muffled against his shoulder, "this can't be happening."

"Maggie Pierce and Owen Hunt are looking after him," Ben shot a confused look at Andy, but moved to reassure Vic anyway, with a hand on her shoulder. "They're the best. Maggie's the best cardiothoracic surgeon you could want. She graduated medical school when she was like 19 and she's the youngest head of a department..."

Warren kept up a reassuring patter. Vic said nothing, simply standing there in Travis' arms.

Andy had just brought herself to open her mouth to ask the obvious question when the doors opened again. Sullivan grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the way of the trolley as Ripley was wheeled back in. Someone had covered him with a hospital gown, and his eyes were shut.

"Lucas," Vic exclaimed, breaking away from Travis and meeting the bed. The porter hurriedly hit the breaks.

Ripley's eyes opened immediately, and he immediately tried to sit up. "Vic, I'm so sorry -"

"Are you okay? What happened? Sullivan said something about your heart and then Warren said you hit your head -"

The Chief meanwhile, got halfway to a sitting position then swayed dangerously. "Woah."

"Lie down," Vic said sharply, her hand immediately shooting out to press him back down. "Lucas -"

"Hey," he said, looking up at her, and reaching up with a hand to touch her cheek. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Vic said immediately. "What - how - 

"I was coming," he insisted. "I was coming to tell you -"

"Don't worry about that just now -"

"Yes, Victoria."

Those two words, delivered firmly, suddenly stopped Vic's anxious babbling, and the room went silent apart from the beeping of the Chief's monitors.

"Yes?" Vic's tone of voice was oddly high again, but what was odder still was the big fat grin that spread across Montgomery's face.

"Of course, if the offer stands," Ripley said. "It's okay if you've thought about it and decided against -"

"No," Vic interrupted. "I mean, I haven't. So you want to -?"

"If you do -"

"I do -"

"Yes!" the exclamation escaped Montgomery as he pumped his fist, and then, on seeing Vic and Ripley both look over to him he shook his head. "Sorry, continue, please." He shoved his fist in his mouth and did a weird sort of dance on the spot.

"I may have, um -"

"Told Montgomery?" the Chief sounded amused. "Well, that was kind of the plan, right?"

"Yeah," Vic sounded weirdly shy, and Andy stared in fascination as the Chief continued to stroke her cheek. "Are you sure?"

"I told you that I wouldn't be game unless it was really right. The bigger question is, are _you_ sure? Yesterday was such a stressful situation and when emotions are heightened -"

Vic, who'd been hanging over the rail of his bed, leaned down and interrupted him by kissing him.

It was a surreal sight, watching Vic place a chaste but firm kiss on his lips. The beeping monitor, which Andy realised had been slowly accelerating, was suddenly kicked into high gear, and the alarm started to ding as the Chief's heart rate shot up.

It would've been funny had it not been because _Vic_ was kissing the _Chief_. Like, in a gentle, soft way, unlike any kiss Andy had seen Vic have when she'd picked up while they were out clubbing. [Andy belatedly realised Vic hadn't picked anyone out clubbing for...well...since sometime last year. And hadn't actually come out with them much in the last few months - the last time she had, she and Montgomery had sat huddled in a corner over shots].

"Shut up," Vic said, pulling back.

"Okay," Ripley said, eyes fluttering open. "Okay." 

"What's - ah," Dr Pierce, along with Dr Hunt and a few nurses suddenly raced into the room, before suddenly stopping. "Um. Hi."

"Hi," Vic said. "Dr Pierce?"

"Yes, and you must be Vic?"

"Yes," Vic said. 

Dr Pierce looked somewhat amused, while Dr Hunt let out a chuckle and left the room, beckoning the nurses with him.

"Nice to meet you," Dr Pierce said. 

"What's happening?" Vic asked.

"Well, Dr Hunt and I were just looking at the Chief's CT head which looks normal to us. We'll get a formal report shortly, but I expect it will tell us that there's nothing wrong. I suspect he's just got a severe concussion from when he collapsed. He has a murmur which comes from a problem with the top valve in his heart being too tight - aortic stenosis. We'll need to fix that - it does involve open heart surgery, we open him up, replace the valve. He should be home in a week."

"I don't need to stay and have that now though, surely," the Chief objected.

"Are you crazy?" Vic exclaimed.

"I've been walking around with it for, you said years -"

"And, what, you're happy to accept the risk of just randomly collapsing? Don't be stupid, Lucas, just because this time you didn't crack your skull open," Vic said irritably. 

"But I owe you breakfast -"

"I will accept a doctor's certificate to rain check, now shush," Vic said briskly, before looking back at Dr Pierce, who was visibly amused. "How long does the surgery take? When would you be able to do it? Will he need to be on blood thinners? How risky is the surgery?"

Andy's jaw dropped as she watched Vic fire questions at Dr Pierce, a hand resting on the Chief's chest, looking every bit the concerned... well, the concerned spouse.

"Lucas?" a pretty, middle-aged blonde woman entered the room, making a beeline for the Chief. "The hospital called me - what's happened?!"

Andy's eyebrows shot up - and she exchanged a glance with Ben and Travis. Ben looked confused, and Travis looked concerned.

"Jennifer, I'm fine," the Chief assured her. Vic let out a loud huff of frustration.

"Jennifer, one of the valves in his heart isn't working and he collapsed this morning. Dr Pierce is a cardiothoracic surgeon, and she's about to tell us about the _open heart surgery_ that Lucas needs, so he's _not_ fine," Vic summarised succinctly. "He had a CT of his head which looks okay, so they think he's just got a bad concussion."

"It's something I've probably had for years, really, Jen, I'm fine -" the Chief said, clearly trying to downplay it.

"As Vic said, if you need _open heart surgery_ you're clearly _not_ fine," Jennifer snapped, sounding worried. "So be quiet so we can hear Dr Pierce." She looked up to Vic on the opposite side of the bed. "Thank you, I'm so glad you're here to help talk some sense into him." 

"I'm so glad _you're_ here," Vic replied as the two women leaned across the bed to share a hug. "Lucas keeps trying to talk us into letting him get out of hospital. I've already told him not to be an idiot."

"It's just a bit of surgery -"

" _OPEN_ _HEART SURGERY_!" both women exclaimed. Dr Pierce looked down at her clipboard, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile.

Sullivan chuckled, and for the first time, Jennifer glanced up and looked around the room. 

"Bobby, hi," she said. 

"Hey, Jen," he said with affection, striding over in two long steps to give her a sideways hug. "Sorry to see you under such circumstances."

For the first time, Vic looked up too and seemed to take in her environment. "Oh, you already know my Captain," she said. "Travis, he's my best friend, and this is Jennifer, Lucas' sister, and that's -" her expression twisted in uncertainty as she seemed to take in Ben and Andy for the first time. "Ben and Andy. They also work with me."

"I thought we were your friends too," Andy said bitingly.

"You are," Vic said hastily. "You are my friends."

"Just -"

"Enough. This isn't the time. Herrera, Warren, you two take the aid car back to the scene and join in on overhaul," Sullivan interrupted grimly. "And don't say anything to anyone -"

"You can't order them to do that, Sully," the Chief interrupted, gaze flickering between Ben and Andy. His expression was no longer the open, warm expression he'd just had but carefully blank.

Andy wondered what he was thinking.

"No, but I can ask them," Vic said to him gently, before straightening up, gaze flickering in between Andy and Ben. "I know this all looks weird but please, _please_ don't say anything. I'll explain later. Please."

" _You_ have a lot of explaining to do," Andy pointed at her.

"I know. Please, Andy. Let us get in trouble after he's better." Vic's words were matter-of-fact, but Andy noticed her hand on Ripley's chest clench to grasp the material of his hospital gown. The Chief, in turn, moved his hand to cover hers.

Andy immediately felt guilty for the impulse she did have to talk about it. Because there _was_ going to be trouble over this, for both Vic and the Chief.

"Okay," she agreed, half-reluctantly - after all, _Vic_ had been the one who had made the biggest fuss about her and Jack, and now here she was, sleeping with the Chief.

"Don't worry," Ben said, clapping her shoulder. "We won't say anything to anyone."

"Thank you," Vic said earnestly. "Thank you."

"Montgomery and I will take the engine back to the station," Sullivan said. "You'll need your go bag, Hughes."

"You haven't changed your locker code, have you Vic?" Travis said more than asked. 

"No," Vic looked vaguely dazed at how quickly things were moving.

"Okay," Travis said, before giving her a big hug and murmuring something in her ear. She blushed and grinned back at him. "I'll be back with your stuff."

"You need anything, Luke?" Sullivan asked. The Chief's gaze drifted to Vic and he shook his head. "Okay. Let's move people."

Andy waited until they had been herded out into the ambulance bay before she rounded on Travis and Sullivan.

"You _knew_ about this?! For how long?!" she demanded.

"Let Hughes explain," Sullivan said gruffly. 

"But -"

"It's not any of your business," Travis said primly.

"Not our business?! He's the Chief and she's -"

"They're in love with each other, who cares when it started," Ben said firmly.

The words hit her like a brick. "In love?" she parroted dumbly. "Vic...with _Ripley_?!" Ben gave her a _look_.

"Andy, they didn't even notice we were in the room," he said patiently. "He doesn't seem the type to take advantage - and she didn't seem taken advantage of, so that's all we probably need to know."

Andy shook her head. "But...it's not allowed. It's against protocol for the Chief -"

"I don't think you need to worry that he'll promote her because she asks to be promoted," Travis, who had been glaring at her, snapped. The words stung.

"I can't believe you just said that!" Andy shouted.

"Enough, enough," Sullivan boomed. "Come on, Montgomery."

"Andy, you can't say that stuff about her if you don't want people saying that stuff about you," Travis said stubbornly.

"He's the Chief!"

"And your dad was our Captain! That doesn't make you less of a good firefighter - or Lieutenant. And Vic's a damn good firefighter, and you know it," he retorted. 

"So we're just going to, what, ignore this?" Andy said, looking directly at Sullivan who flinched.

"He's my friend," Sullivan said slowly. "He's a good man. And he's about to have heart surgery. It doesn't matter right now."

"Fine," Andy snapped, whirling on her heel towards the aid car.

"Why are you so upset about this?" Warren asked when they were on the road.

"It's just - _Vic_ has been lying to us for ... months? a year?" Andy said, feeling betrayed.

"Well, what would you have done if she'd told you?" he asked sensibly.

Andy hesitated. "It's not right," she said. "He's ...it's against the rules."

"We've _all_ broken rules," Ben said pointedly. 

"So what, we just ignore this?"

"We let Vic explain," Ben said. "Give her the time and the understanding. I'm sure this isn't what she wanted, either, and right now she's got other things to worry about."

Andy sighed, looking out of the window. "It's weird, though, right?"

Ben huffed. "Super weird. The _Chief_? I thought she hated him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I genuinely didn't think I'd write for this fandom again; and I've spent most of the last 10 months or so limiting my engagement with the fandom because it seems a bit ridiculous to only watch two seasons of a show and then ignore everything thereafter. 
> 
> However, there is an international crisis going on. It's making me hugely anxious. Writing - and this is the pairing that came to mind - is an outlet for me; a way to disengage from what's happening. I have what's now being termed an "essential services" job, so I am working (double time) through this. So I started writing again, to get me to switch off my brain and let me sleep.
> 
> And so...welcome to Flashpoints 2.0. It'll be marked as complete, because I'm only posting as ideas come to me. There is no over-arching plot, chapters will be loosely connected (if at all) and not chronological. Chapters will vary in terms of rating (at the beginning of each chapter) and content (some will be just an isolated scene, others might be a story...I don't know yet). 
> 
> I don't know much about what's happened in S3 - only from the occasional tumblr post - so this is totally a work that ignores canon completely.
> 
> I hope that by writing to mitigate my anxiety, some of you find entertainment and relaxation in this as well. Stay safe, stay home, and wash your hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maya and Dean get left in the dark. Rated T for language - f-bombs.

Later, Maya would feel a little embarrassed about how she'd kind of ... not noticed Vic wasn't there. It was partly because she'd been so busy talking to Dean about Gibson, while Jack had gone out with Ryan to help on a call, and then it was because Andy had come back from _her_ call in a Mood. Plus, Maya thought defensively, Travis had turned up at some point and where Montgomery was, Hughes should have been.

But it was Jack who, when the call came over the radio that everyone in the coffee fire had been exposed to hydrofluoric acid, put two and two together.

"Where's Vic?" he demanded, rounding on Travis. "Is she the one who is in hospital exposed?"

Travis started to shrug, "why are you asking me?"

"Don't give me that bull," Jack said. "I was acting captain for a while, I know you're her listed next of kin. And she was the last person out apart from Conlin and..." Jack's eyes widened. "Ripley." 

Travis' expression was strangely grim. "Yeah, she got called in," he said. "I haven't heard anything else. They only notify next of kin if the patient can't."

Jack and Travis looked at each other, and Maya couldn't quite work out why they seemed tense. Andy, meanwhile, let out a melodramatic huff but when Maya glanced at her, Andy looked at Warren, and then shut her mouth, looking down again.

"Vic would let us know if she was down, right?" Dean said. He looked as confused as Maya felt.

"Yeah, and the hospital would let me know if she couldn't," Travis said with a sense of finality.

"Sullivan's probably got her doing odd jobs," Warren said, but in an odd tone of voice. Maya narrowed her eyes at him, and he shifted awkwardly.

"Okay, what's going on?" Maya demanded.

"What do you mean?" Warren blustered.

"You're acting weird," Maya said, sweeping her gaze across the group.

"All of you," Dean added. 

"I'm just worried about Vic," Travis said. "She got called in, and I haven't heard from her yet." Maya narrowed her gaze at him, but he held it steadily.

"And Sullivan wouldn't tell us anything," Warren said, sounding disgruntled. Andy let out a snort of agreement.

Well, that explained Andy's moodiness. She hated not being in the know.

* * *

And so Maya didn't give to much thought to it, as they were recalled to Grey Sloan for blood tests, and then heard the rumour that it was the Chief that had been downed by the hydrofluoric acid. Then the separate rumour that there was something wrong with the Chief's heart.

"He was in there for a while, I guess," Maya said thoughtfully. "Conlin was in longer. But why would we all come in to get tested for hydrofluoric acid if the Chief's here for his heart?"

"Should we text Vic?" Dean asked, sounding worried. "I mean, she was in there with Conlin for ages."

Travis' phone buzzed, and he quickly glanced at it. "She's fine," he reported, tapping back a quick message. "No evidence of hydrofluoric acid exposure for her. Must've been just in one section of the building."

"You're all clear," Sullivan's voice interrupted, and Maya turned to see him coming up the corridor. "Good, you've taken a lunch break," he said, glancing at the half-finished sandwich in Dean's hand.

"Seemed the sensible thing to do," Gibson said. "There's a lot more overhaul yet."

"Get to it," Sullivan nodded. "But keep your ear out - with so many crews needing to come in for testing dispatch may send you out of our area."

"Is Vic going to be joining us?" Maya asked.

"Hughes has had a family matter crop up," Sullivan said evenly. "I've given her the rest of the shift off."

"Is everything okay?" Dean asked in concern, looking more to Travis. "Travis, what's going on?"

"Look, she didn't want me to mention it," Travis said, looking uncomfortable.

" _Is everything okay_?" Maya asked, trying to keep her tone even. "We're her friends too, Montgomery!"

"We need to respect Hughes' privacy," Sullivan interrupted. "Right now, in the middle of an acute crisis, is not the best time." His gaze travelled over all of them, ending on Andy. "We can make a difficult time for her easier by giving her space and letting her explain when she feels up to it. In the meantime, you have work to do."

Maya was used to Sullivan being serious and grumpy, but it was the hint of concern that convinced her to drop it. Sullivan never seemed concerned, and it was that concern that had a sudden chill go down the back of her spine.

* * *

They'd just sat down to dinner when Vic walked into the Beanery, dressed in her uniform

"Vic," Travis breathed, jumping up immediately. "What are you doing here?"

"The Cardiac Unit has strict visiting hours," Vic said, bypassing him to move into the kitchen and pull out a plate and cutlery for herself. "You know. So." She let out a shrug, and served herself spaghetti and meatballs before taking her empty spot next to Travis. 

Travis, meanwhile, exchanged a worried look with Sullivan, who had uncharacteristically - and awkwardly - sat down with them tonight.

"You should go home, Vic," Travis said gently, squeezing her shoulder tightly. "We can all cover."

"It wouldn't be a problem, Hughes," Sullivan said, oddly gently, as Vic shook her head.

"And do what?" Vic asked, trying to sound brisk, and Maya noticed for the first time that her eyes were red. "Visiting hours are over, what, you want me to just go home and do nothing? At least I can be of some use here."

"He'll be fine," Gibson said, reassuringly, reaching across the table to squeeze her arm.

Maya couldn't help a double take. _Gibson_ knew? But how? When?

"Well, given you're here, do you want to explain what's going on?" Andy said pointedly, twirling spaghetti around her fork.

It was at this point that Maya realised something else was going on. Something weird. Because Travis and Jack and Sullivan all started speaking loudly.

"Will you leave it, Andy!" Travis snapped.

"It's Hughes' business," Sullivan said more evenly.

"Now might not be a good time -" Jack added.

"Well, when will be a good time?" Andy demanded.

"It's fine," Vic said, before repeating, more loudly as Ben joined in (with a "come on, leave it for now -"), "it's fine."

The room went silent as Vic took a deep breath, staring at her untouched plate.

"We talked about it," she said, more to herself, before saying, more to the table, "and I want you to know from me, not the gossip train."

Maya glanced around the table; everyone had their gaze fixed on Vic except Dean, who looked confused and gestured as if to say _what the fuck_. Maya shrugged at him, before returning her attention to Vic, who had squared her shoulders.

"Ripley and I are engaged," she said, still to her plate. The silence became even more oppressive.

"What do you mean?" Maya asked, desperately trying to think of a Ripley she knew. Apart from the Chief no-one else came to mind...

"Chief Ripley and I. We're going to get married," Vic repeated, looking up and locking eyes with Maya.

Maya's jaw dropped and the table _erupted_.

"Woah, wait, hang on...?" Jack was saying.

"What?" Andy practically screeched. "Are you kidding me? What?"

"Married? Oh god," Sullivan facepalmed.

Dean, meanwhile was laughing. "Good one, Vic, now seriously what's -"

"Quiet!" Maya's head snapped around as Warren, somewhat uncharacteristically, used what she could only describe as a Dad-voice. "Let's give Vic some time to explain."

It had the intended effect and everyone subsided. "We've been seeing each other," she said simply. "And then we were going to go on holiday but trying to work out what to do because we kind of probably needed to tell people and then he proposed and then _I_ proposed and then -" she took a breath. "Okay. It's complicated - wait, you know what, it _isn't_ complicated."

Vic took another deep breath. "I - I love him." A shy, delighted grin crept across her face as she said, "he loves me. And I never thought I'd be into marriage or anything but I also...I want to be married to him. Specifically. To him. Like, I was thinking about whether I wanted to get married at all and I figured I would if it was Ripley but not to anyone else and ... So I proposed. And he said yes. And um, then he collapsed this morning there's something wrong with the valve in his heart and so he needs open heart surgery and Dr Pierce then found out he's been exposed to hydrofluoric acid so they're keeping him in hospital to fix his calcium and then they'll operate when he's more stable. So, um yeah," she shrugged. "Any questions?"

There was a pause.

"So many," Maya breathed. "Right?"

"So, so many," Andy agreed. Maya felt a bit relieved when Andy met her eye, the awkwardness about Jack seemingly put to the side in the face of ... this.

"Well, congratulations," Warren said, getting up and rounding the table to hug Vic from the side. "On your engagement."

"Thanks, Warren," Vic said, sounding surprised, and unable to hide a silly grin.

"You're still calling him Ripley?" Jack's voice was high, and Vic laughed. 

"Uh, no," she said, blushing. 

"So is it just us and Ripley who know? And ... I guess, his sister?" Travis asked, nudging her in the side.

Vic shook her head. "No. We informed the department. They would've had to know anyway, because he made me and Jennifer his joint NOK. And Ripley didn't want it hanging over his head."

"Although I don't know that the two of you really needed to go through all the interviews today," Sullivan said, almost sympathetically. 

"But it's done with and all we have to focus on is him getting better," Vic said with determination. "Besides, you got quizzed too."

Sullivan lifted a shoulder. "All I had to do was say that I guessed what was going on and that we never really talked about it, which was true," he said. "And that I threatened to kick his ass if this all went south."

"He didn't mention that," Vic said. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

"I know, or I'd've kicked his ass already. Nobody, not even the Chief, messes with my team." Vic smiled at him brightly.

"How long?" Andy asked suspiciously.

"Since the day after Miller's birthday?" Vic replied.

"That's not that long," Dean said, frowning. "That's only, what, seven months?" He made a face. "Also, ew, you hooked up with the Chief on my birthday?!"

"Technically, the day after your birthday," Vic said primly, trying to pretend she wasn't blushing. "And it's long enough."

"Seven months isn't that long," Maya shook her head. "Plus, you guys don't even really know each other's friends or anything if you've just been sneaking around -"

"I know you guys won't understand," Vic interrupted. "But-" she shook her head, tears, gathering in her eyes. "He nearly died. Yesterday and today. And with our jobs any of us could die at any point and I'd just...I don't want to die not having married him. I'd regret it, for the rest of my life, if he died first. And if I died first well, it would suck to have never gotten married. And apart from all that - I _want_ to spend the rest of my life with him. So."

Maya shook her head. It was just so... _weird_. That it was _Vic_. 

"How did we not know about this? You're so bad at keeping secrets!" Andy exclaimed.

"Well, given Gibson and Montgomery and _Sullivan_ all knew I don't know that we did particularly well," Vic said ruefully.

"Can we go back to how you hooked up _on my birthday_ with _the Chief_?!" Dean interrupted, shaking his head. "Seriously, why, ugh, how, ugh, don't answer - what, did you just take him home at the end of the shift?"

"Kinda," Vic said, a smirk creeping across her face. "I mean, I asked him for a drink, and then the bar was closed so he suggested breakfast, and I was like, we're closer to my place."

"You just chatted him up like that?!" Travis exclaimed.

"He didn't mind," Vic said defensively. "He was into it."

"Wait - and then you snuck out of your own apartment for our next shift ... how long was he there?!" Jack exclaimed with a dawning look of realisation.

"He had the day off like us cos he worked twenty-four hours straight," Vic shrugged.

"You snuck out of your own apartment?" Travis sniggered.

"I may have freaked out when I woke up and realised I was running late for work and he was in the shower and his stuff was everywhere and I didn't know what to say to him!"

"Can we go back to the part where you invited him back and he didn't leave till _the next morning_? Surely somewhere in there you talked about -"

"Not a lot of talking," Vic interrupted, looking suddenly smug and embarrassed.

"You mean you two fucked for like twenty four hours?" Travis shook his head. "Well, damn. Hot and -"

"I'm going to be sick," Dean announced.

"Me too," Sullivan said, staring at his plate with a queasy expression.

"We also ordered pizza," Vic said defensively. "And slept."

"And then, what, you said, _Chief, let's do it again_?" Andy said waspishly.

Vic's expression went dark and the room went dead.

"And you said, what, _Dad, promote me to lieutenant_?" Vic said coldly. 

Andy recoiled like she'd been slapped. "How dare you -"

"No, you listen to me, Andy," Vic said, leaning forward over her barely-touched dinner. "Ripley doesn't work with us. He doesn't. Even if we're on scene at the same time I am ranked so far beneath him that he has nothing to do with what I'm tasked to do - that all goes through a battalion chief and then Sullivan, and then you guys. He's not going to be involved in promoting me. So if you wanted us to give _you_ the benefit of the doubt about _your_ relationships with ranking officers, then you need to give me and him the benefit of the doubt. I invited him to my house because he's hot and nice. I saw him again because it was, a) the best sex I've ever had, and b) he's super cute and funny and thoughtful and I enjoyed spending time with him."

Andy's jaw firmed. "And I seem to remember someone pointing out to me that there's still decisions to be made as to who gets rescued," she said mulishly.

"Did you see him race in after me yesterday?" Vic snapped. "No, because he's professional-"

Sullivan cleared his throat. "It's a moot point. The Chief had already delegated all interventions for Hughes if she were in danger to me, and as Hughes has rightly pointed out, he would have no involvement in her career progression for at least eight years anyway - she's at least four years off lieutenant, and he only starts getting involved at captain level." He glared at both Vic and Andy. "Now. You two need to be able to work together. Apologise to each other."

"Sorry," Vic muttered, chin jutted mulishly.

"Sorry," Andy sounded just as insincere. Sullivan opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the arrival of Frankel.

"Sullivan," she said briskly, "I need a word." Her gaze landed on Hughes, and surprise flashed across her face, and she hesitated.

"They know, ma'am," Vic said, waving around the table.

"Right," Frankel said. "Well. I hadn't expected you to be here."

"Visiting hours closed at 1930," Vic said. Frankel looked almost sympathetic. 

"Well, in that case, come along with Sullivan," Frankel ordered. 

"Vic hasn't eaten -" Travis objected.

"She can bring it along," Sullivan pushed his chair back.

"I've had enough -"

"Bullshit. Bring your fucking dinner, Hughes," Frankel rolled her eyes, glancing pointedly at her plate. "You're a person, not a mouse."

Vic let out a surprised laugh, but picked up her plate and followed.

"What on earth is your problem?" Travis demanded of Andy as soon as they heard the footsteps down the stairs.

"The rampant hypocrisy of everyone being cool about this when they haven't been cool to me," Andy snapped back. 

"You know, none of us have ever held your dad against you, or thought you didn't deserve something. I made that point when you questioned Vic; and she just made it now because again, you questioned her motives," Travis argued.

"Oh come on, you were pretty vocal about Gibson and me -"

"I said that you shouldn't be on the same shift," Travis interrupted. "Vic and Ripley aren't on the same shift. They don't even work in the same sphere!"

"And if none of us have noticed it over more than half a year -" Maya interjected, trying to smooth things over.

"You can talk," Andy snapped, and Maya went cold.

"Andy -" Jack said.

"Well, the same thing applies to you two now that you're sleeping together. Who are you going to save?"

"Wait, what?" Travis shook his head. "You two?"

"Not just as a one off thing?" Warren echoed, sounding equally surprised.

There was a long pause.

"Look, I'm no narc," Travis said. "But you three can't even look at each other right now. You need to think about whether you can do your jobs impartially, and not prioritise saving each other or risk us to save each other. And you need to work out whether you three can work together. And while you think about that, don't say anything to Vic. She's got enough to think about right now."

Maya couldn't help but feel a little guilty as Travis' words hit home. She glanced at Jack, and then at Andy to see her uncertainty reflected in their faces.

"You three need to talk and sort this out. Now," Travis practically ordered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never understood why they hand-waved Maya/Jack.
> 
> I'm also not super invested in them so I'm not going to 'fix' the situation. Exposure has my solution!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vic comes home. Rated T for discussion of medical procedures.

It wasn't quite dusk by the time the engine rolled into the station. Dean turned the ignition off with a sigh, glancing over to Vic who had sat quietly next to him on her phone for most of the last leg of the trip.

"Home," he said, unnecessarily.

"Finally," Vic sighed, stretching her arms up over her head, checking her watch. "God, I hope clean up doesn't take too long."

"We can cover," Dean said gently. 

"It's fine," she said shortly. "Quicker if all hands in."

"It's okay for you to be worried about him," Dean ventured, "and seriously, the fact that your ... _fiance_ ... has just had open heart surgery -"

"Doesn't mean I can't still do my job," Vic said briskly, swinging out of the engine.

"Chief!" Dean looked up at Travis' exclamation as the other man climbed out of the ladder to see the Chief standing next to Sullivan who'd beaten the ladder and engine in the aid car with Herrera. The Chief looked weird and Dean realised he'd never seen the other man in civvies before - jeans and a blue plaid button down shirt.

"Welcome home, Montgomery," the Chief said, with a smile, but his eyes were clearly searching the garage for Hughes.

Who flew past Dean, before suddenly screeching to a halt right in front of the Chief. 

"I don't want to hurt you," she said, quiet words echoing around the silent garage. The Chief chuckled, and opened his arms out.

"I missed you," he said, with a disarming kind of honesty.

"I _really_ missed you," Vic admitted, her shoulders slumping, as she stepped forward. Dean watched as the Chief wrapped his arms around her. It was kind of surreal to watch Vic melt into him, pressing against him in a hug that was as intimate as a kiss. "And I was worried about you."

"I was worried about _you_ ," Ripley said. "What's a bit of routine surgery -"

" _Open heart surgery_ ," Vic pulled back, gently prodding his shoulder, before curling into him again.

"Still routine," Ripley said, "compared with a record-breaking wildfire? At least you all look like you got back in one piece."

"Sullivan and Herrera had to jump into a pool," her words were muffled in his neck.

"Oh really?" Ripley looked over to Sullivan, eyebrow raised. 

Their Captain shrugged. "Got caught outside with no cover," he said. "Nearby pool seemed to do the trick."

Ripley nodded slowly. "Well, then I am very glad to see you all in one piece." His words were solemn and earnest.

"Good to see they put you back together," Montgomery said, sounding a little uncertain about whether or not he could say it.

Ripley chuckled, wincing slightly as he did. "Good as new, soon enough," he said.

"When will you be back, sir?" Jack asked, the only one of them brave enough to do so. 

The Chief's face closed back over into a tight expression, and he shrugged a shoulder. "I'm on six weeks of medical leave post surgery," he said, voice devoid of expression. "After that is for the department to decide, but I won't be able to take up any non-desk bound duties for another month or so beyond that."

"At least," Vic said, pulling back slightly. "Didn't Dr Pierce say it could take six months?"

Ripley made a face. "Yeah, but I'd hope to do better than her average patient. I'm the youngest in rehab by like twenty years!"

"Except for Matty," Vic corrected him. "Didn't you say he was only fifty or something?"

"Matty doesn't count, he had a heart attack because he weighs about ten of me and smokes like a chimney and has diabetes and high blood pressure," Ripley brushed her off. 

"Physiologically about eighty, then," Warren interjected with humour.

"Something like that," Ripley said, pressing a kiss to Vic's temple, and squeezing her tighter before letting go. 

"Okay, go clean up all of you," Sullivan ordered as Vic took a step back. "Chief Ripley and I will have dinner ready for you."

"I just had open heart surgery," Ripley protested lightly putting his hands up. 

"You can still cut vegetables," Sullivan told him.

"Is that an order?" Ripley chuckled.

"Yep," Vic said, tapping his chest. "Go make dinner."

"Go clean the truck," Ripley retorted affectionately, touching her cheek before turning and heading out of the barn. Vic for her part turned around and strode back to the engine, looking relaxed and relieved in a way Dean hadn't seen her in days.

* * *

By tacit agreement, the rest of the crew hung back as Vic showered in record time and zipped upstairs.

"Are they always like that?" Dean asked, turning to Travis.

"Who like what?"

"Vic and Ripley..." seeing Travis' look of confusion, Dean added, "you know. Sappy. Touchy-feely."

"I've only really seen them together once," Travis explained. "When I found out."

"How _did_ you find out?" Warren asked before making a face. "Please don't say you walked in on them."

Travis laughed and explained. 

"Still so weird," Dean shook his head. "Like. The Chief. He's nice I guess but I thought she hated him?"

"Clearly not," Jack said dryly. "You might sleep with someone you don't really like, but you don't decide to marry them."

"Are they serious about that?" Warren asked. "It's not just some thing for HR?"

Travis sighed. "I know it was discussed as a thing for HR, but Vic's serious."

"Is he?" Jack demanded sharply.

Travis shrugged helplessly. "I don't know him too well. But he introduced Vic to his sister months ago, that must mean something."

"Chief or not, if he hurts her..." Dean growled, feeling his insides twist protectively. Hughes had rapidly become like a second younger bratty sister to him. She was a good laugh, up for anything, smart and brave. 

He'd hated seeing her so moody and not-herself in California. He never wanted to see Dark-Vic again.

* * *

By the time they got upstairs Vic was already seated with Ripley sitting across from her. Sullivan had taken a spot at the head of the table - somewhat amusingly on the exact opposite end of the table to the couple.

Vic and Ripley barely glanced up as the rest of the team started filtering in. Travis swung into the seat next to Vic, who didn't even blink.

"Amputated his arm in the field..." Vic was saying quietly.

"Sounds like a tough call," Dean tried not to too obviously listen in. He'd never heard the Chief speak in that tone of voice before; it was gentle, and sympathetic.

"I just...I don't know if it was the right one," Vic said, sounding upset again.

"Well, what were your options? By the sounds of it, he could've bled out in the time that it would've taken to amputate," Ripley said, sounding reasonable.

"We didn't know that for sure," Vic said. "What if he didn't need to lose his hand?"

"If there's one thing I've learnt, it's that playing the _what if_ game gets you nowhere, honey." Dean's eyes bugged out at that, and he looked desperately at Travis who was trying not to smirk and failing. Ripley ignored them (or didn't notice them, Dean wasn't sure), and continued, "EMTs need to make quick decisions based on the best information they have at the time."

"It wasn't protocol," Vic said. "What would you have done?"

Dean tried very hard not to breathe and not look like he was eavesdropping.

Ripley hesitated. "I don't pretend to know the answer here," he said warningly. "I think I would've done what you did; try to free him, then try to temporise maybe with some IM epi to maintain some permissive hypotension. But I mean, none of our protocol adjusts for having a trained surgeon on your team. If Warren told me his best medical advice, I probably would've made sure he understood he wasn't covered by our insurance as he was acting outside his scope but it's hard to argue with that training and experience," he paused. "Patient preference also would sway things, but it sounds like your guy was unconscious."

"Yeah," Vic sighed heavily. 

"Hey, sometimes there's no right call," Ripley said gently. "Sounds like you guys did your best in an awful situation."

"Yeah," Vic took a deep breath. "Thanks, Lucas."

"It's what I'm here for," Ripley said quietly, and Dean watched Vic give him a shy smile. "Anyway," he said, tone switching to the light-hearted one Dean remembered from the catastrophe that was the peer review. "I haven't shown you the funniest thing from _Today in Cardiac Rehab_."

"Oh yeah?"

"So Matty came in this morning and dramatically stripped off his shirt to show off his new tattoo," Ripley said conversationally, pulling out his phone, and unlocking it. 

"Oh no," Vic said, hands covering her mouth with a mix of horror and delight. "Oh, that's ... wow ... that's ..."

"A lot?" Ripley finished with her. 

Vic nodded and laughed. "What did his partner think of that?!"

"Apparently he got told off for being morbid," Ripley replied, sounding amused, turning the phone to show Travis and then Dean a picture of the mysterious Matty's chest. There was a dotted line tattooed down the centre of his chest, with the words _Cut Here_ and an arrow pointing to the line tattooed just under his clavicle.

"Can't imagine why," Vic said drily. "What possessed him?"

"He thought he might as well do something with the scar," Ripley said. "I on the other hand was thinking..."

"Always dangerous..." Vic teased, but Dean watched her tense.

"Well, I was thinking that if you really wanted to do something with a midline scar that you should do something more like this," Ripley tapped on his phone, and turned it around. Dean watched as the tension fell away and Vic burst out laughing.

"That's _incredible_!" she said in between giggles - before suddenly stopping. "You're joking, right?"

"We-ell," Ripley drew out the word.

" _Lucas Ripley_ -" Vic said, sounding horrified, eyes wide.

Ripley let out a chuckle. "Of course I'm joking," he said, grinning at her. "But it was fun to see your face."

"You're the worst," Vic said, but with such _affection._

"I'm _bored_ ," Ripley whined. "Let me have my fun."

"The worst," Vic muttered, shaking her head. 

"So, given I wasn't allowed to watch Survivor until you got back," Ripley continued. "I discovered this show called Ink Master? It's about tattoo artists -"

Vic threw her head back and laughed again. "You were watching _Ink_ _Master_?!" she exclaimed

"It was that or a programme about long-haul truck drivers," Ripley said defensively. "I've been _so bored_."

"There's like a million things on Netflix!"

"I watched some of them! And I've bookmarked a whole bunch of movies - "

"Bad ones?"

"One of them is a heist movie turned serial killer movie I think you'll love," Ripley said. "It's like, 2 stars on IMDB?"

"We find bad movies and watch them," Vic explained, tearing her eyes away from Ripley - Dean realised for the first time since the rest of the team had sat down. 

"I never understood how you could stand to watch shitty movies," Sullivan commented from the other end of the table. 

Well, Dean mused, that probably explained why Hughes hadn't been constantly demanding that they watch shitty movies after dinner. [She had a weird preference for the kind of badly plotted, terribly acted B-grade movies, and every now and then the rest of the team gave in - and instantly regretted it].

"They're so _relaxing,_ " Ripley said. "And you can laugh at them..."

"Horror movies are the best shitty movies -" Vic agreed.

"You barely even watch them!" Ripley accused.

"I do too!"

"Through your hands," he retorted.

"That's still watching," Vic said defensively. Ripley laughed, then winced, hand going to his chest. "You okay?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine," he waved her off. "The stitches pull sometimes," adding quickly as Vic immediately and visibly seemed to deflate. "Anyway. Other shows I've discovered. That _Queer Eye_ show you told me to watch is great! I started with the fire house one, and ..."

As Ripley chatted, Vic relaxed again, interjecting to playfully argue about his opinions of some of the makeovers ("what's with the plants everywhere? Who's going to keep them alive?" Ripley argued). Their conversation was quiet and mundane, but an oddly pleasant backdrop to dinner. 

[He couldn't help but be surprised at how much the two of them seemed to have in common, and how _easily_ they bantered and argued].

"Anyway," Ripley said, everyone started to get up and clean up. "Enjoy the rest of your shift, everyone."

"Bye, Rip," Sullivan said. "Good to see you up and about."

The rest of them murmured good night, while Vic wordlessly took his hand and walked out with him.

"Well?" Travis, said, once the two of them were down the stairs. "Can you all stop being awful about it now?" His gaze focussed on Andy. She shuffled uncomfortably.

"Look," Sullivan interjected, and Dean jumped. (How was that guy so quiet despite being so tall?!) "It's been a difficult few weeks, and I know that this thing with Hughes and Ripley surprised most of you and it seems ... strange. But we've just been through the wildfires as a team. We need to stop all this arguing about who knew and who didn't know and who reacted how to this - at the end of the day, right now, he's not working. The department's deciding what they're going to do about it. Let's move on."

"Exactly," Gibson said. "Come on. Let's move on."

"I'm sick of all the glaring and arguing," Dean agreed. "Let's just...make a clean slate." He narrowed his eyes at Andy and Travis. "All of us."

"I will if you will," Travis said after a tense moment.

"Okay," Andy agreed, somewhat begrudgingly.

"Now shake on it," Sullivan said, sounding more like a disgruntled parent than anything else, and Travis and Andy reached out and shook hands quickly. "Okay. Now. Let's ... move on."

They had been cleaning up for probably about five minutes when Jack broke the silence by saying, "you reckon they're doing it right now?"

"Ew," Dean said, desperately trying to hold back the mental image of the Chief and practically-a-sister ... "Jack!"

"I wish," Vic said suddenly, stepping back into the Beanery. She flushed a little under the attention of the entire team but held her head up as if in challenge. "He just had open heart surgery. Have to wait to celebrate our engagement a while."

"Well, that kind of sucks for you," Dean made himself say. "No swagger for a few weeks?"

"He promised he'd make it up to me," Vic said, grinning slyly.

"Okay, I don't want to know," Sullivan threw his hands up.

"You know, Michael had to have his appendix out and they said no heavy lifting or _strenuous activities,"_ " Montgomery began. "But there's ways around it -"

"Appendixes and open heart surgery are very different things!" Warren interrupted in alarm. "Vic, don't listen to him -"

Dean couldn't help but laugh as Sullivan shook his head in distaste, saying, "I'll leave you all to finish up," while Jack stuck his fingers in his ears and sung loudly.

Maya, meanwhile, was joining Travis in suggesting ideas, while Andy seemed to have taken Warren's side.

And just like that, it seemed that maybe, just maybe, they were going to make a clean slate of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts AU (but they're out of school). Rated M

It was days like these that Vic Hughes, Junior Auror, wondered who she'd offended in a past life. Of all the squads in the UK, she'd had to be assigned to squad 19.

Squad 19 was great, really.

It was just it fell under the Home Security division of the Aurors.

And, well, Home Security was good. Solid pay, a lot of calls dealing with nasty Dark Creatures to keep your skills honed (Vic had in the last month dealt with four banshees, a werewolf, and a nest of vampires), and the odd Curse Breaking work on various magical artifacts that people unearthed in their homes or in shops.

In fact, Home Security was the _best_ division.

Except the Chief Auror in charge was _Ripley_.

Even though Travis probably had a point, that Ripley probably wouldn't remember giving her detention before she'd even been Sorted, she still didn't particularly like the guy. Surely there was some sort of irony in having a Slytherin be in charge of Home Security.

[And you could never trust a Head Boy or a Prefect. Maybe except Travis, who had been pretty nice as a Prefect. But that was Hufflepuffs for you].

So she narrowed her eyes as Ripley went to the door and asked for a pot of tea before sitting back down again.

"I have to be honest, Hughes," he said, in an affable kind of way. "It's going to be difficult to give either one of these kids the keys to the castle after today's debacle."

"Jack and Andy aren't kids," she shot back, taking some pleasure in seeing his eyebrows raise. "And I'm sorry, is this a peer review or an incident debriefing because you seem to be focussing on this one - ?"

"It's a pretty big incident," Ripley returned calmly. "This presents an opportunity to examine both of them -"

"It's just one -"

"One incident in which _Sirius Black_ somehow managed to escape from Azkaban, sneaking past the Dementors and then past an entire squad of Aurors?"

"And whose fault was that?!" 

"You were out there, why don't you tell me?"

"Yours," she snapped. "It was your fault. We're all your babies, that's the gig right? So why is it that squad 23 can't cover their own patch. Herrera had to split the team to help them out on an urgent call and besides - the Dementors are supposed to be protecting Azkaban and we're just back up!" 

There was a pause as Ripley simply leaned back in his chair, throwing his quill onto the table and steepling his fingers.

"Okay, that might not have come out right -" she stammered.

"You just yelled at me," Ripley pointed out, sounding almost amused.

"What I meant to say is that either Jack or Andy would -"

"We're done here," Ripley picked up his quill again, dismissing her without a second glance.

"But I haven't given you my peer review yet!"

"I don't want it, you can go," Ripley said, still not looking up from his parchment. 

"You don't want it?" Vic faltered. 

"You are correct," Ripley finished the line, then glanced up and sighed. "Hughes, I am the Chief Auror of Home Security, I am your boss' boss' boss. And the way you have spoken to me, the flagrant disrespect you have shown me today, has told me everything I need to know about how Gibson and Herrera have led the squad. We're done here." He looked back down at his parchment, absently waving his hand and the door opened with a pointed click.

* * *

"So basically, Ripley is a wanker," Vic concluded telling her team about the disastrous peer review.

"I see how that could've gone better," Andy said faintly. Jack simply sighed heavily.

"Gryffindors," Travis sighed, shaking his head. 

"Oi," Vic nudged him in the ribs.

"Well, none of your peer reviews went well, but mine was okay," Travis said firmly.

"Um, Dean and Ben are Ravenclaws," Vic said. "Don't be Gryffindor-ist."

"That's not a thing," Maya rolled her eyes. "But she has a point, Montgomery, mine didn't go well either."

"You're practically a Gryffindor," Travis sniped back. " _I_ think the Hat made a mistake."

Vic felt a little relieved the attention moved off her as Travis and Maya resumed their well-worn bickering about whether Maya was a true Slytherin or not.

* * *

Vic weaved through the air, grateful for her years as a Beater as she raised her wand and jabbed forcefully outward.

" _Expecto patronum,_ " she bellowed, and the familiar little fox burst from her wand, galloping along. Beside her, Maya was effortlessly navigating in the air while directing her patronus (Look, Vic could feel a little smug about the fact that even though Bishop had played for the Harpies, she couldn't quite produce a corporeal patronus - instead producing a slightly fuzzy but focussed jet) to round up the remaining Dementors, forcing them away from the little Muggle village on the east coast.

"I think that's all of them!" Maya hollered over the wind.

"Thank Merlin," Vic muttered under her breath, relief and exhaustion in equal waves washing through her as the Dementors fled north-east, away from the village of unsuspecting, sleeping Muggles. [There were times where Vic wondered about the sanity of the Ministry. Sure, Sirius Black was a threat, but letting Dementors roam Wizarding Britain looking for the man was beyond her].

Suddenly, her watch flashed red. Vic tapped it, and Travis' voice rose up out of it, words whipped away by the wind.

" _Break--_ " the rest of the word was garbled. " _Az--ban NOW_!" Maya seemed to have heard, as she turned her _Nimbus_ _2000_ around with a neat loop and sped towards Azkaban. 

Vic cursed her Ministry-issued _Cleansweep Seven_ as she followed at a slower pace. Getting Bishop to wait for her would be impossible, and Travis' tone of voice had sounded...well...panicked.

Still, not even that thought could've prepared her for what she found as the grim fortress came into view ahead. Normally Azkaban formed a black, silent, forbidding silhouette against the horizon.

While the chill still crept over her skin, it came less from the presence of Dementors and more from the noise of a spellfight inside, flashes of bright red, green and purple sparks lighting up the clouds. 

"Oh fuck," she hissed, leaning forward on her broom to try to urge it on even faster. Maya had disappeared ahead of her.

Vic hovered over the central courtyard, glancing around to see no evidence of battle. She rapped herself smartly on the head with her wand, casting a Disillusionment charm before landing in a corner of the courtyard.

" _Reducio_ ," she breathed, before stuffing her shrunken broom into a pocket. Creeping forward, wand at the ready, she made her way to the heavy steel door that was the only entrance.

She presumed Bishop had opened it - for it had been locked only with a hasty _Colloportus_ instead of the usual umpteen layers of spellwork.

" _Alohomora_ ," she rapped on the door, pulling it open just enough to slide in, before redoing the _Colloportus._

Vic followed the noise of battle to - and her heart sank into her boots as she realised where she was headed - the high security wing. Maya had obviously been in a hurry, because only the first of three doors was locked (and it opened to a tap of her Auror card and wand together against the door). The second two had been left ajar - and Vic cursed herself for wasting precious seconds shutting them and casting Colloportus again.

 _If we needed to slow them down_... _no, no time to think_ , she chided herself. Vic hurried forward, hesitating as she hit the first T-junction. The inmates in the high security wing had been divided by lethality. To her right were the most dangerous inmates - Black (or at least, he had been), Lestrange times three, Dolohov, Travers, Mulciber... while on the left were more minor Death Eaters, or those who had served You-Know-Who from important positions but without the same level of skill as witches or wizards.

She heard Maya scream from the left, and that decided her. She turned sharply to the left, running along the corridor, turning left again and through the open door to the main part of the wing. Belatedly, as she took in the scene in front of her, she wondered where the Dementors were.

In the same moment, she shouted, " _expelliarmus!_ " and three wands flew from the hands of Ignatius Snyde, Aerin Lee, and another one that Vic didn't recognise. Vic caught them neatly.

"Good job, Hughes," Maya panted, flicking her ponytail back. "Get back to your cells!"

Snyde snarled, seeing only two Aurors, and lunged towards Vic, hands outstretched. Bishop flicked her wand, and he stumbled under the effect of a Knee Reversal Hex.

"Back to your cells," Vic repeated louder, holding her wand up and jabbing it towards the one she didn't know, casting a Stinging Hex as she did. 

The two witches quickly herded the Death Eaters into their cells, sealing them tightly.

" _The building is on lock down,_ " came a loud booming voice - Ripley's, Vic thought, with that posh London accent. " _All Aurors to Evacuation Point C_. _Code Red._ "

"Better run off," spat Lee. "Cowards."

"Silencio," Bishop said lazily, and while Lee continued to sputter, no noise came from her cell. "Let's go, Vic."

Vic nodded, and the two hurried back to the door of that wing, locking it carefully with several layers of enchantment.

"How did they get wands?" Bishop asked.

"Where are the Dementors?" Vic returned grimly. The two witches moved back along the corridor as a high pitched cackle hit their ears, chilling them to their core. Their pace quickened, and they reached the T junction again just as a horrifyingly familiar figure did from the other side.

All of a sudden, they were in pitched battle as Bellatrix Lestrange, her long dark hair matted into coils, an unhinged expression on her face, screamed, " _crucio_!"

Vic flung herself to the side while Maya dropped into a roll to avoid the spell that crashed against the stone wall behind them throwing up green sparks as it dented the dark stone. In that moment of distraction, Bellatrix darted to the hallway leading outside. Bishop let out a shriek and followed, while Vic hastily threw a spell at a wizard that suddenly appeared at the junction - Dolohov, she thought.

"Too slow, too slow," he snarled at her as Vic threw up a hasty Shield charm against his jinx. Behind him, further Death Eaters - another Lestrange, Travers, the last Lestrange - ran out, following Bellatrix. "God, you Aurors are worth less than the robes they clothe you in!"

Vic had no time to worry about Maya, as she fiercely defended herself against the frantic speed of Dolohov.

He was better than her, she realised with dismay. Much, much better, despite fourteen years in Azkaban. His reputation was well earned, as Vic found herself pushed back.

" _Avada kedavra,_ " he snarled as Rookwood ran behind him. Vic, against the wall, threw herself face forward to the ground, unable to do more to dodge the spell.

She got lucky, she'd realise later, as rather than finish her off, Dolohov opted to turn and follow the others outside. 

"Vic!" she heard Dean yell, and she looked up to see Dolohov running backwards, throwing curses at Andy who charged after him. Dean ran to her.

"I'm okay," she let him pull her to her feet.

"We gotta get out of here," Dean said.

"Is anyone else free?" Vic demanded.

"I don't - I'm not sure," Dean replied. "They've sounded the evac -"

"They can't all have wands," Vic said desperately. "We have to contain the rest."

Dean took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right," he said, steeling his jaw. Over his shoulder Vic spied a figure racing towards them from the western end of the complex.

" _Petrificus totalus_ ," she shouted, and the figure dropped. Another few figures raced out, and Dean and Vic went about subduing them.

Less talented than Dolohov, it was somewhat reassuring to Vic to find she could drop these Death Eaters with Dean's backing. Finally, all four were on the ground, stunned or petrified.

"Cover me," Dean ordered, and Vic raised her wand obediently as he went over to check on them. "It's Rowle, Selwyn, Rosier Snr, and Priscilla Wilkes." Dean plucked wands out of their hands, stowing them in his belt. "Okay. We need to get out."

"No, we need to return them to their cells," Vic argued. "If there's more coming they could release them -"

"If there's more coming and we levitate them in there then we could end up with four extra ones at our throats, wands or not they're still dangerous," Dean argued.

"We have to secure the wing," Vic said, heart in her mouth.

Dean let out a heavy sigh. "Fuck. I don't like leaving them at my back but you're right," he said. "And I doubt their comrades are returning for them on the outside, so...Okay. Carefully."

The two of them advanced down the hallway, skirting around the edge of the heavy oak door which had been exploded outwards. Inside the ward was silence, deathly still. The maximum security area consisted of five parallel corridors in which there were four cells each, all separated so that the inmates could not see each other across or sideways.

"How many do you reckon got out?" Dean asked quietly.

"I was too busy duelling Dolohov," Vic said bitterly. "I'm not sure. Bishop had run after Bellatrix, she was up front. Both of the male Lestranges, Travers..."

Dean swore. "I know Rookwood and Mulciber were in there too," he said. "Jack and I were trying to hold them...I got thrown into a wall and must've blacked out. Did you see Jack?"

Vic shook her head. "Only Bishop, Herrera, and you," she said. "Do you know - Montgomery? Warren?"

Dean shook his head. "All we had to start with was the silent breach alarm. We came in to here - I think they didn't expect us so quickly. The Dementors were flooding the corridors - we had to patronus them to keep them in line," he said. "Jack, Andy and I took the left side -" he indicated the first corridor of five cells. "Warren and Travis took the right." 

"Well, in that first corridor was Black, Dolohov, Bellatrix and her husband, right?" Vic frowned, trying to think.

"Yeah. So that lot of cells are probably empty," Dean finished. "In the second block were the other Lestrange, Rookwood, Mulciber and I think Travers."

"That would make sense - they were in the group that we think all left," Vic said.

"So let's start with corridor three. I'm pretty sure Rosier and Rowle were in there," Dean said grimly, raising his wand to shoulder height. They scoped out that third corridor, which was empty, cell doors blasted off their hinges.

"Okay, fourth block," Vic said, as they advanced back up the third corridor.

A couple of Death Eaters remained, balefully glaring out their cell doors, obviously not among those granted wands - nor thought important enough by those granted wands to be rescued. Dean and Vic quickly reinforced the seals on their doors, before moving across to the fourth corridor. About halfway down - the first two cells occupied by inmates who were slumped at the back of their cells, taking no interest in the disruption around them - the ceiling had been caved in.

And, to Vic's horror, a Ministry-approved Auror boot was sticking out from underneath it - looking bizarrely like the scene from the Wizard of Oz in which Dorothy dropped a house on the Wicked Witch of the East. She and Miller raced forward, quickly but carefully levitating heavy stones off the Auror.

Travis Montgomery was unconscious, blood staining the front of his chest.

"We gotta get him out!" Vic exclaimed. 

"You levitate him out, I'll take point," Dean said. Vic nodded, carefully levitating her best friend up, and heading out. Her boot slipped on something shiny and slippery as she made her way down the corridor back towards the courtyard - blood, she realised dimly. Travis' blood.

Dean advanced before her, wand protectively up, while she continued to levitate Travis towards the courtyard.

The courtyard was a disaster. The heavy steel door was in pieces, exploded outwards - presumably by Bellatrix. Scorchmarks marked the walls.

"Hold!" Ripley's posh voice ordered them. "Identify yourselves." 

"Aurors Hughes and Miller!" Miller shouted, searching, like Vic, in the sky.

"We've got a wounded Auror with us - Montgomery needs urgent attention!" Vic yelled. Before them, in the courtyard, the air _rippled_ and Ripley appeared along with a few Aurors from 23. Vic avoided Mayhorn's gaze.

Squad 23 kept their wands directed on Vic and Dean, while Ripley and 23's Squad Leader sent beams of light over them. The unpleasant Auror Verification Ray (AVR) swept over her, and Vic gritted her teeth against the icy feeling. Coded to their blood, it prevented people masquerading as Aurors. That beam was then directed at the clearly unconscious Travis.

"We need to help him!" Vic said impatiently. Ripley ignored her, instead whistling sharply. A green clad Medi-Witch swooped down.

"I'll PortKey him out," she said, and Vic reluctantly let her take over the levitation. The Medi-Witch rose with Travis, high enough to get outside of the anti-Portkey zone around Azkaban then disappeared.

"How many?" Ripley demanded of them. 

"Bellatrix, the Lestrange brothers," Dean panted.

"Dolohov," Vic added.

"Travers, Mulciber, Rookwood," Dean counted on his hands. "I don't know who else."

"Any word from Herrera or Gibson?" Ripley asked.

Dean shook his head. "Herrera and Bishop ran out into the courtyard," he said. "They ... they aren't here? Jack and I ... we got separated."

Ripley's jaw tensed. "No. Warren got the alarm to us, but you're the only other ones out of the complex. Okay." 

A shadow passed over them and Vic looked up to see the twenty members of the Tactical Response Squad descending on broomstick in orderly columns. 

"Chief," called their leader. "We got a situation."

"Sure do, Frankel," the two shook hands. "Good to see you. I've got half of 23 trying to keep the perimeter, the other half here. Miller and Hughes just exited. There's no good news. All three Lestranges, Mulciber, Dolohov, Travers and Rookwood made it out of the maximum security side."

"Fuckshitwankbuggerfuckingarse," swore Frankel.

"We neutralised Rowle, Selwyn, Rosier Snr, and Priscilla Wilkes, sir," Dean interjected. "They're paralysed in the entry corridor."

"And Bishop and I locked down the other side, sir," Vic added. "Snyde, Aerin Lee, and I don't know the last one were out of their cells but we got them back in them and sealed them in."

"Some good news then," Frankel said ironically. Ripley gave her a tight smile.

"Frankel, can half your squad reinforce the perimeter?" Ripley asked. Frankel nodded, turning to divide her squad. "Miller, Hughes, you two should go get checked out at St Mungo's. You've been duelling some dangerous people."

Miller nodded, and without a word retrieved his broom, unshrunk it, and took off promptly.

Vic, meanwhile, was seething. "I mean it, Hughes," Ripley said, his tone softening a little. "Go get checked out."

"What the hell do you care?" Vic snarled, arresting Ripley as he moved to turn away again.

"Excuse me?"

"I said what the hell do you care?" Vic repeated. "You were ready to leave us all in there - you did leave us! In there, with some of the most dangerous Dark wizards and witches -"

"It's protocol to lock down Azkaban -" he growled.

"You could have made a different choice, but you left us there to die!"

"There was no other choice to make!" Ripley yelled, losing his cool for the first time that Vic had seen. He took a breath, pausing before continuing, "you are eager, and loyal to your friends but I don't get that luxury! What the hell do I care? That your squad was in an impossible position and some of the most dangerous people are back on the loose? More than you could possibly know." He turned, shaking his head again. He was a few paces away when he looked back over his shoulder. "By the way, Hughes, yell at me like that again and you're fired." He strode to the waiting Frankel.

Still fuming, Vic pulled her own broom out of her pocket and unshrunk it. She needed to go to St Mungo's and find Warren and make him explain why he'd left Travis for dead.

* * *

"It's like a punishment," Vic groaned over breakfast. 

"For him, or us?" Dean joked.

"It's not forever," Andy said sympathetically.

"He's just...here...in our safehouse," Vic hissed. "Watching everything we do."

"To be fair, we were on patrol when ten of the most dangerous Death Eaters escaped Azkaban," Jack said gloomily, staring into his porridge.

"Yeah, but the Dementors turned on us," Maya argued. "Who'd've thought that would happen?! Anyway, he's keeping to himself. Try to not worry about him, Hughes. It's only for a few more weeks, until we get a new Captain."

Andy groaned loudly at that. "He's definitely going to appoint someone from outside," she complained.

"Again, we were on patrol -" Jack began.

"I know that!" Andy hissed. Fortunately, the alarm went off to signify a call, interrupting the argument. Vic jumped up and over to the Floo, sticking her head in the fire.

"Hey Ruthie," she greeted the wizened old goblin. "What is it?"

"It's Ruthig," the goblin corrected her stiffly. "Suspected sighting of vampires."

"It's daylight," Vic rolled her eyes.

"I know that and you know that but your average wizard...lacks somewhat in intellect," Ruthig said sharply, before telling Vic the address. Vic listened begrudgingly, taking her head out of the fire and relaying the message to the team.

"At least we're not having to follow up all the Black sightings any more," Dean said, in an attempt to be comforting.

"Yeah, cos we're not on the Death Eater Task Force," Bishop grumbled. "Lucky old Tonks."

"Wasn't she just doing desk work? I'd rather be out dealing with even rubbish calls," Andy said.

* * *

A couple of months later, Vic found herself in the surprising position of wishing Ripley had stayed as squad leader, as Sullivan reamed her and Travis out.

"Take it out of my safehouse," he snapped. "There's a support group for Aurors every Wednesday at 6pm in the back room of the Leaky Cauldron. Go there."

At least Ripley kept to himself, even if he was also a hardass, Vic thought as she and Montgomery stared at each other for a long moment over the brooms they were nominally maintaining. They didn't exchange any further words, but Vic thought about it as she showered at the end of her shift and Flooed home.

She missed her best friend. And maybe she should talk about that? Or talk to him, properly?

It was just - the thought of Travis sending Warren away to, what, hold the line? Against Bellatrix Lestrange? was infuriating. No reason they couldn't both have gone to raise the alarm - that would've been safer, even, make sure the message got through.

And so she made her mind up to go late, Apparating hurriedly to Diagon Alley and rushing in about fifteen minutes later.

"Didn't think I'd see you here," she said, sliding in the seat next to Travis.

"Hi," he said, surprised.

"How's the share?"

"Oh, you know, there's been a lot of it." They both sniggered, and Vic felt something heal a little as they made eye contact.

"Ah," a familiar voice broke through the moment. "I'll introduce myself to those of you who don't know me. I'm Lucas Ripley." Vic glanced at Travis in astonishment as Ripley, wearing a soft, warm looking jumper and no official robes, spoke. "I've been part of the Auror department for over fifteen years now. Caught the last part of the War, so I've seen a lot, been through a lot. And I know it's a scary time for everyone, knowing that there are Death Eaters out there again. Some of us in this room have fought with the Lestranges, or Dolohov, or Mulciber, others still have lost friends or family to them. We, everyone in this room, remembers the last War in some way or another, and all of us with a good old fashioned British stiff upper lip. But, letting that go for a moment, I want to say that we will get through again, by working as a united team. Because in the absence of some of our friends and family, that's what we are to each other."

Vic started to clap with the others, belatedly, surprised at how...

Compassionate?

Open?

Kind?

... his words were.

After, as everyone milled around afterwards, Vic pretended to listen to Travis, but watched in her peripheral vision as Ripley moved between groups, speaking quietly. People stopped and listened to him, and he seemed to have a smile for each group.

It was kind of a nice smile, actually, she thought idly.

So, when he excused himself from a knot of young, anxious looking Aurors (they were a year or two behind her, Vic thought) to make a cup of tea and get a digestive, Vic quickly excused herself from Travis.

"Uh, Chief," she said, taking a deep breath. "Hi."

"Hey," he said, turning around. "Spotted you sitting in the back, with Montgomery. I'm glad he's recovered."

"I, I wanted to apologise. For what I said to you, the night of the Azkaban breakout. If I was part of making that whole incident harder on you in any way, I apologise," Vic stammered through the apology.

His face softened in surprise. "I appreciate that, Hughes," how had she never noticed how blue his eyes were? "I understood where you were coming from."

"I didn't exactly do the same for you," she said awkwardly, and he gave a slight nod of acknowledgement. "Anyway, uh, you know, I really expected to hate being here today but I actually really liked what you had to say."

His chuckle warmed her heart, as he looked away sheepishly. "Thank you, I think."

"Oh no, I mean - I meant that about, about what you said. It was depressing," 

"Oh okay," he laughed again.

"But in a good way, no I'm sorry," Vic gave a high nervous laugh, wondering where the butterflies in her stomach had come from. She never had any problems speaking her mind - and she didn't intend to start now. "I mean, you were great - what you said, what you shared was...great."

He gave another chuckle, and the smile that he flashed was almost shy. "Well, maybe you can share a little too? Next week? I'm sure your experience would help a lot of Aurors."

Vic laughed nervously. "Uh, I don't know, maybe," she replied.

"Well, I hope I'll see you," his eyes caught hers. So, so blue. And deep. And soft. She could drown in - wait.

This was Ripley.

Chief Auror of Home Security.

She really shouldn't be thinking about his eyes being pretty, or his smile being cute, or wondering whether his curly hair was as soft as it loo-

Oh. Oh _no_.

"Um," she said. "Anyway. Enjoy the rest of your evening. Chief." He nodded a dismissal and Vic quickly stumbled back over to where Travis was waiting, desperately trying to hide the fact that she was pretty sure she was still blushing.

* * *

Vic had pretty much managed to put it out of her mind by some excessive use of denial and distraction. 

That was, until Ripley came to the safehouse to watch them running Curse-Breaking drills with some of the St Mungos staff. He waved at her, and she felt the butterflies again in her stomach, brushing Andy off as best she could. Fortunately her friend was distracted by the presence of Tanner, enough for Vic to accidentally let slip about Ripley's nice jumpers without being noticed.

It was hard not to like the way he firmly but gently defused the bomb that was Sullivan and Andy's fight. 

And later, when he was telling her to not judge Sullivan too harshly, Vic couldn't even pretend that she wasn't noticing how handsome he was in his buttoned up Auror robes, red rank insigna on the shoulders. She kind of wanted to flirt, but kind of also didn't exactly want to come onto her boss and so she flirted quietly. And he heard - or sort of heard - and gave her a shy kind of grin that was really, really cute.

He kind of invited the question, in a way, but for a horrible moment Vic thought she'd misread the signal when he shrugged at her invitation of, "well, you could be company?"

"If you were to ask me to join you for a drink," he said carefully after moment. "It'd be rude not to join, right?"

At that point she was pretty sure he was in. Because they both knew the Leaky didn't open until after ten, when Tom dragged himself out of bed. For the rest of the shift she mulled over the thought of it.

Why shouldn't she? He was cute, seemed nice (certainly she'd made the first move, but he'd allowed it), and it was a stressful time. Everyone needed ... stress relief...

The next morning they kept up the pretence of walking to the Leaky, and Vic made a show of being surprised it was closed. Inwardly, she thanked Tom for being so reliably ... not a morning person. 

"There's this great cafe -" Ripley started to say.

"My flat's not far," Vic interrupted, anxiety suddenly racing through her at his expression. Maybe she had misread ... ? "Not ... not to imply anything, but if we did want to sit and, you know, talk, my flat's nearby."

"No, nothing wrong," his tongue darted out, and Vic watched in fascination as he moistened his lips. 

"Just a bit of conversation," Vic agreed. "You know. It could happen there. At mine."

"Conversation," he took a breath, blue eyes fixing to hers. "Conversation _could_ happen there."

Relief crashed through her at the emphasis he was putting on his words. "Unless you think it's," she paused to give him a once over, allowing herself to appreciate how hot he was even in his Auror robes, "a bad idea."

He gave her a little smirk, and returned the Look, and Vic felt it wasn't fair that that kind of made her a bit breathless. And even more randy.

"Okay," she said, grinning.

"Okay," he replied.

"Um, I live in the Muggle part of -" she started to explain, but Ripley nodded and simply touched his wand to his robes. They immediately shimmered into a long black formal coat, leaving fairly non-descript black trousers and a soft blue jumper visible underneath.

"Better?" he asked. Vic nodded.

They didn't really talk on the short ten minute walk, but Vic caught enough of his glances towards her to feel that it wasn't taking too long, that he wasn't having second thoughts. She led him up the stairs of the block of flats, and into her apartment.

"Um, welcome," she said, hanging her coat on the rack by the door. He reflexively handed her his when she reached for it, but then sort of ... stalled, shoving his hands in his pockets. The offer to put the kettle on died on her lips, seeing uncertainty start to touch his expression.

So she did what she'd been dying to do since that whole Auror Support Meeting: reached up and pulled him into a kiss.

His lips were warm and just a little chapped, but to her relief he returned her kiss eagerly. Warm hands landed on her hips, and when Vic nipped at his bottom lip he opened his mouth to hers.

And _damn,_ he was a good snog. His grip on her hips was reassuringly firm without being tight, and his mouth was warm and soft and his kisses were hungry. 

"Okay," Vic said breathlessly as they parted for air.

"Okay?" he panted, blue eyes dark.

In answer she kissed him, and pulled him towards her bedroom.

* * *

They somehow managed to avoid talking about it, meaning that on Monday, Vic woke up in her warm bed. 

The sheets still smelled of him, and of _them_ , and she could hear her shower running. She sat up on her elbows, and spotted his Auror uniform (the collared undershirt they all wore under their robes and the black trousers) flung over a chair.

Merlin, what had she done?

Without pausing to think, she hurriedly got dressed and - feeling ridiculous - snuck out of her apartment. She fobbed off Miller who teased her for having shag swagger, Gibson not-so-helpfully told her to just talk to the guy because she couldn't avoid him forever.

[Couldn't she? He was stationed in London, while they Flooed every shift up to the border of England and Scotland, where their safehouse was located in a tiny wizarding hamlet].

There was no particular reason she couldn't avoid him forever, she thought to herself, before stopping still at the landing of her flat.

Leaning against the doorway, wearing Muggle blue jeans and a green jumper, was Ripley.

"Uh, hey," he said, clearing his throat.

"Hi," Vic said dumbly.

"I figure we should probably talk?" he looked uncomfortable. "You sort of ... left abruptly yesterday morning."

"Yeah, um, sorry, I didn't want to be late. For work," she said.

"Right," his hands went into his pockets. "Um -"

"I had fun," Vic blurted out, then groaned, covering her face. "I mean, uh. It was...nice - great! Good to you know, um. Blow off some steam. Um," she was aware that she was babbling, but couldn't quite stop the words from continuing to spill out. "I um, wouldn't mind having more fun. With you. You know. That could be good."

Ripley chuckled, giving her that shy smile. "I had fun too," he said quietly.

There was a moment of silence in which they just looked at each other. It was still awkward, and Vic could feel her face was red, but his kind of was too.

"I was going to order Thai?" Vic offered. "They do the best hokkien noodles. And their pad thai is great."

"I love pad thai," Ripley said.

So Vic unlocked her flat, letting him in. He didn't seem fazed when she ordered on the phone in the hall (because she was away for work so often, there wasn't a whole lot of residual magic in the flat and so the phone usually worked). 

They deliberately didn't talk about work. Instead, they chatted about Quidditch (he was a Pud U fan while she - perhaps out of loyalty to Bishop - was a Harpies fan). He helped her clear up the takeaway containers, casting a neat charm with a practiced flick of his wand to send them flying to the sink. His cleaning charm was a little bit sloppy, and he winced apologetically. 

"Not my strongest suit," he said.

"Nor mine," Vic said cheerfully, casting her own _Scourgify_. It was probably equally poor, but the combined effects of both charms seemed to do the trick.

They grinned at each other across Vic's tiny kitchen table, before his gaze flickered down to her lips. Needing no further hint, Vic leaned forward and kissed him firmly.

He practically Apparated them to her bedroom.

* * *

Initially, they saw each other once or twice a week. Sex with him was fun; it was playful, affectionate, and really very satisfying. It was a gradual creep, spending more and more of her nights off together.

When she looked back, later, on the whole thing, Vic thought that in retrospect it had turned into more than just a fun way to blow off steam when he invited her to his place for the night. He was on call, and mobile phones being unreliable around wizards and witches, his Auror watch served as both a way to call him out - and to track him.

Vic wasn't offended by the thought that he didn't want to be tracked to her apartment, and so she didn't think much about it. Instead, she curled her hand around his bicep and allowed him to Side-Along her to a different part of London to the front step of a terrace house.

"It's a mostly Wizarding cul-de-sac," he explained, unlocking his door. "And there are a few spells that disguise the front step."

"Wow," Vic said, entering his house. Lucas flicked his wand at the ceiling, and the lamp came on. "Perks of a good salary, I guess."

He shrugged, looking around indifferently. "To be honest, I spend more time at work than I do here. But it's a Ministry supplied house, so it's got all the trappings."

They lay in his bed later, Vic's head pillowed on his bare chest, as the two of them lazily took turns tracing coloured patterns on the ceiling with their wands.

He traced a Slytherin _S_ on the roof, sending sparks like fireworks out from around it.

"I never asked what House you were in," he said idly.

"Surely it's in my file," Vic replied, tilting her head up. He shrugged.

"Haven't read it. Felt creepy to do so after we started..." he gave a little cough. "And there was no real need before that."

"What House do you think I was in?" Vic asked archly.

He looked at her soberly, brushing her hair back from her face. "Gryffindor," he said after a long moment. "Probably Gryffindor."

"And you were in Slytherin," she stated.

"Does that bother you?" he asked, stroking her hair.

"Should it?" Vic shrugged.

"We both went to school during the War," he replied, before pausing. "Oh Merlin, you're not going to make me feel old by telling me you went to school _after_ the War was over, are you?!"

Vic giggled. "No," she said. "You don't remember me at all, do you?" He frowned, and gave an a shrug. "You gave me detention before I was even Sorted."

"Merlin, I am old," he let his head fall back onto the pillow theatrically. "That was you?! I didn't remember the names."

"So I knew you were a Slytherin git all along," Vic said. "And a poncy Head Boy who was a fun-killer."

"You and another firstie were trying to duel on the train," he said. "Of course I was going to give you detention. What was it all about, anyway?"

Vic laughed. "You know, I don't really remember," she replied.

"You didn't answer my question," he accused lightly.

"Our Auror squad is young," Vic said thoughtfully. "I mean, really, we're all young, relatively. You're, what, in your thirties and in charge of a division?"

"That's cos most of them died in the War," Lucas said, looking a little confused, but going along with it.

"I was at Hogwarts with them, except Warren. Montgomery was a year ahead of me in Hufflepuff. Herrera and Bishop were two years ahead of me, and Gibson and Miller were three years ahead. Bishop was in Slytherin. I knew her a bit because we were both on the House Quidditch teams. The rest of her team were pretty much all smug wankers, but she was nice."

He still looked confused, so Vic tried a different approach.

"How long did it take for the Hat to Sort you?" she asked.

"I wasn't quite a Hat-Stall," he replied in bemusement. "It was three and a half minutes."

"And what did you talk about?" she asked. He looked at her in surprise - normally, the Sorting wasn't something people spoke about. Vic rolled her eyes. "The Hat and I had maybe a ten second conversation in which it said I could go equally well in Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. I said Gryffindor please."

"Well," Lucas said slowly. "Slytherin's the family House. It recognised that straight away. But we also spoke about Ravenclaw." He hesitated. "And, well, the Hat said that I had a strong loyalty to my family, and that I should consider Hufflepuff."

"You picked Slytherin," Vic said, matter-of-factly.

Lucas shrugged. "I am a Ripley," he said quietly. "We're not a major family, but we are an old one. And a proud one. Where is this all going?"

"We're eleven, when an old magic hat gets plonked on our heads and it tells us whether we're a brave child, a smart child, an ambitious child, or one of the others," Vic said passionately. "It's absurd. You aren't 'good' or 'evil' as an eleven year old. You're just a child. And it's not like you can't have any of the traits of a House you _aren't_ Sorted into - children are more complex than that. So the Hat told you you were smart and loyal, and you said you wanted to be ambitious. The Hat said I was brave or loyal, completely missing the fact that I'm obviously a genius too -"

Lucas chuckled. "The Hat thought you wouldn't learn anything from Ravenclaw you didn't already know," he teased, kissing her forehead.

Vic grinned back at him. "Seriously, Lucas. You can't believe in all that blood purity nonsense or you wouldn't be in bed with a half-breed like me," she said bluntly. He winced.

"Don't say half-breed, just say half the family's Wizarding and the other half not. Half-breed is just...wrong -"

"See. You don't believe that rubbish. Point is, people are more than the House they were in at school," she said, tapping his chest triumphantly. "But being a poncy Head Boy...that's a harder thing to forgive."

Lucas laughed. "I'll make it up to you," he offered with a smirk, leaning forward to kiss her.

Suddenly, a low tone echoed through the room.

"What was that?" Vic asked, pulling back.

"Oh, it'll be Jennifer," Lucas said, leaning over her to the bedstand on her side, where, Vic belatedly realised, a quill was scratching on parchment.

"Who's Jennifer?" she asked, cold suspicion washing over her.

He gave her a _Look_. "My sister," he said, trying to disguise his amusement. "She's asking if I want to have dinner with her tomorrow. You're working, right?" Vic nodded, and he scribbled a reply. "She says hi, by the way."

"You told your sister about me?" Vic put a hand on his chest to stop him from kissing her again.

"Of course," he said. "I tell her all the important parts of my life."

"I thought we were trying to keep this quiet?"

"She's my sister," Lucas said simply. 

"So I can tell my friends about us?"

"If you want to," he chuckled, before kissing her again.

Then there wasn't a lot of talking.

* * *

Travis, for some reason, got weirdly excited about it.

"Chill out!" Vic hissed, not for the first time. 

"It's just, you will make babies with the cutest hair," he said dreamily.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah," Vic said urgently. "Nobody's having babies. We're just...seeing each other. _Quietly_."

"Vic and Ripley sitting in a tree -"

"Oh shut up!"

Suddenly, the alarm went off. The big red alarm. Travis and Vic exchanged concerned glances, and raced up to the kitchen.

"Not exactly what you'd expect for this hour of the night," Travis said.

"There's some sort of fight at the Department of _Mysteries?_ That can't be right. We're all being recalled to the Ministry," Andy said. 

"Let's go, wands out," Sullivan ordered grimly. 

And so the team jumped into the Floo - Gibson, then Bishop, then Herrera, Montgomery, Vic, Warren and then Miller and Sullivan as rear-guard. They entered the main hall of the Ministry, immediately forming up into their battle formation.

"Merlin's balls!" Gibson swore, as they took in the scene around them.

The Fountain was in pieces, and Albus Dumbledore stood in the middle of the room, an shocked Fudge gesticulating wildly. A knot of senior Aurors stood around Fudge, and Vic was relieved to see Ripley's blonde head amongst them. The desk was on fire.

"Is that _Harry Potter_?" Herrera exclaimed, a bit too loudly, pointing to a skinny, short boy standing next to Dumbledore looking dazed.

Around them, other fireplaces were activated as every on-duty Auror squad in Britain Flooed from their safehouses to the Ministry, and the squads all - 19 amongst them - advanced uncertainly on Dumbledore.

"So, Dumbledore, what you're saying is that the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself launched an incursion into the Ministry tonight?" Fudge was saying in disbelief.

"If you don't believe the evidence of your own eyes, Cornelius, I am powerless to help you," Dumbledore folded his hands across the front of his robes.

"Where was the incursion targeted, Professor?" Scrimgeur interrupted impatiently.

"The Department of Mysteries, Rufus," Dumbledore replied.

"Right, everyone on the right side of the Hall," Ripley turned, waving his arm to encompass the three squads of Aurors on the same side as Vic. "You're with me, to the Department of Mysteries. The other half, with Frankel. Frankel, I want a floor by floor sweep of the building."

"Good, Ripley," Scrimgeur said approvingly. "I want every single person in this building to have their identity verified and then be interrogated about tonight."

"Yes sir," Ripley and Frankel said, nodding sharply. 

Frankel led her half of the squads towards the lift. Ripley turned and headed down to the Department of Mysteries, with squads 19, 88, and 42 following. 

It creeped her out almost as much as Azkaban, Vic thought, as she crept along through a room of smashed brain tentacle things.

"Stop!" shouted a trembling voice, and in front of them a teenaged boy stood with plump round cheeks.

"It's okay," Ripley said hurriedly. "My name is Lucas. I'm an Auror, and so are the people behind me."

"Ripley?" Shacklebolt's familiar frame came into view. "Thank Merlin. You lot are a sight for sore eyes."

"You didn't invite us to the party," Ripley replied grimly. "You all right, Shacklebolt? What happened?"

"Well, long story short, the Death Eaters broke into the Ministry, Harry Potter and a few of his friends tried to stop them. They called Dumbledore for help and he was able to get onto me. I was fortunately having dinner with a number of friends who were able to come with me to assist while the general alarm was raised."

"How fortunate," Lucas said dryly.

"We've got wounded here, they'll need to go to Hogwarts," Shacklebolt moved on quickly.

"Not Mungo's?" Lucas asked sharply.

"Poppy Pomfrey's expecting them," he replied. "The kids aren't too bad. Some of the adults will need to go to Mungo's."

"Okay," Ripley turned. "Sullivan, can I get half your squad to escort the kids to Hogwarts? You'll need to Floo to Hogsmeade I suspect."

Sullivan nodded, and directed Warren (as a former Medi-Wizard), Vic, and Gibson to escort them.

"Quick assessment of them, Warren, then get them out of here," Sullivan ordered briskly, before their fellow Aurors followed Shacklebolt further into the Department of Mysteries.

"I'm Vic, and that's Ben and Jack," Vic introduced herself. 

"I'm Neville," said the boy thickly, and Vic realised his nose was broken. 

" _Episkey_ ," Warren said quickly, gently touching his wand to Neville's nose.

"Hey, thanks!" said Neville. "Um, and that's Luna, she got knocked out when she fell; Ron's confused; Ginny's ankle's broken, and I'm really worried about Hermione, Dolohov used some sort of spell and she's unconscious."

"Okay, I can fix the ankle," Vic quickly knelt and did just that, watching the red-headed girl's expression relax in relief. Ben, meanwhile, cast a couple of quick spells on the red-headed boy, whose stupid grin vanished, and knelt next to Hermione.

"I need to get her there now," he said urgently, levitating her gently in the air. Gibson glanced at Neville and Ginny, who had their wands in hand.

"Look these kids just faced a bunch of Death Eaters," he said. "Hughes, can you escort them. We'll run ahead?"

Vic nodded - Ben, meanwhile, had started jogging up the hallway.

"Ben used to be a Medi-Wizard, she'll be okay," Vic tried to reassure them. "Okay, Ginny, how's that ankle?"

"Sore, but I can walk," she said, determinedly. 

"All right, Neville, you help her," Vic said. Ron, meanwhile, was a little unsteady on his feet but able to walk. 

"Okay," Vic said, levitating Luna carefully. "Let's go." 

It was slow progress but they eventually made it into the main chamber, and through the Floo to Hogsmeade. Not for the first time, Vic wished there was a way to Apparate into Hogwarts, but given the enormous Hagrid met them at the gate and easily hefted Luna and Ron in a giant arm each, it sped things up considerably. 

She got the kids settled in, and waited with Jack while Warren helped Pomfrey reverse some of the damage that had been done to Hermione. The three of them then made their way back to the Ministry ... only to be assigned the job of cleaning up the Brain Room.

It was disgusting, smelly, boring work - but Vic held her tongue after Sullivan bit Warren's head off for groaning at the assignment.

After a couple of hours, Vic headed up to the Atrium to go to the bathroom and have a drink. She ran into Lucas in the corridor.

"We're nearly done in the Brain Room," she said, light-heartedly. He gave her a disgruntled look, and moved past her. "Hey, it was just an update!" Vic snapped.

"Not everyone needs to be updated about everything," he hissed, turning back around.

"Okay?" the sinking feeling in her chest was confirmed with his next words. "I just had a conversation with Montgomery." He lifted his eyebrows.

"Yeah, okay, Travis knows -"

"Vic, no-one was supposed to know!" he said urgently.

"Why are you saying it like that?" Vic demanded, hurt.

"Like what?"

"Like you're ashamed of me."

"I'm not ashamed of you! It's just -" footsteps echoed behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder. "Look, this isn't the time, and it's definitely not the place. I'll talk to you later."

With that, and a dramatic whirl of his robes, he turned and strode away, leaving Vic stunned, and maybe a little heartbroken.

* * *

"Any word?" Travis asked quietly, more than a week later.

"Not a peep," Vic said bitterly, aggressively trimming the broomstick's twigs. "Not an owl, not a memo, not a Floo chat - nothing. And now I'm like, what do I do with his jumper?"

"His jumper?" 

"He left a jumper at mine and it smells amazing and I have to work out, do I just keep it or do I owl him to ask if he wants it back or do I get rid of it -?"

"You know, letting go can be really hard, but the longer it takes, the harder it can be," Travis said gingerly.

"Wait, are we still talking about the jumper or - Ripley - you think I should dump Ripley?" Vic turned, abandoning the Cleansweep. "It was just one fight!"

"And you haven't talked to each other since then," Travis pointed out.

"Well, he's probably really busy, you know, with the return of You Know Who," Vic said defensively. Travis gave her a _look_ , and opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the alarm.

"Justus Periwinkle, Head of the Department for International Magical Cooperation, has called for backup, go! I'll recall the others from their other jobs!" Sullivan shouted as they ran up the stairs, throwing powder into the fireplace for them and shouting an address.

They emerged in a village pub, the sound of a fight outside. Travis and Vic dashed past the cowering patrons, wrenching the door open and entering the street - and a pitched battle. An older wizard and witch were desperately trying to defend themselves and a small girl (who was clutching the man's leg desperately) against five Death Eaters in their black robes and face masks.

" _Expelliarmus_!" Travis shouted beside her, successfully catching one of the Death Eaters by surprise, and Disarming them. 

Then they were in the fight. Two Death Eaters started firing against Travis and Vic, while the third took advantage of the confusion and flung Justus Periwinkle off his feet, allowing one of the others to run in and snatch the little girl. The little girl screamed and struggled, preventing the Death Eater from Disapparating with her.

"NO, CASSANDRA!" the witch bellowed.

"Stay," Vic hollered, racing after the little girl and the Death Eater. 

"Vic!" she heard Travis yell, but she simply sprinted around the street corner, and then was forced to fling herself awkwardly out of the way of a bolt of blue, crackling electricity.

"Stupefy!" she returned, but the Death Eater threw up a shield in time.

This guy was good, Vic had time to think. But he telegraphed his attacks with a little pre-spell flourish that gave her a split second warning. Seeing the little girl - Cassandra - try to pull away again, Vic steeled herself, and quickly cast a Haste charm on herself before speeding forward, grabbing the girl before the Death Eater could act.

"Stay behind me," she said to the girl, pushing her against a wall, whirling just in time to put up a Shield charm. The Death Eater's _Stupefy_ bounced harmlessly off it.

A _pop_ filled the air, and another Death Eater appeared. Vic backed up, covering the girl as best she could while frantically defending against both attackers. Sweat beaded on her forehead - both were decent if not great duellists, and trying to hold off two wizards at once was challenging.

"Roto," she shouted, inwardly cheering as the first Death Eater was too slow in dodging. He was lifted in the air and spun. The remaining Death Eater cursed and sent up red sparks from his wand. Another _pop_ filled the alley.

"You're better now, little girl," a familiar, chilling voice snarled. 

Oh no. _Dolohov_.

Vic deflected a spell from the second Death Eater, while Dolohov lazily flicked his wand, stopping the first Death Eater's spin in the air and letting the other man crash to the ground.

The little girl screamed, as the deflected spell hit the wall behind Vic. 

It felt like the duel of her life. She made no attempt at offense, instead casting Shield spell after Shield spell, desperately trying to keep pace with three Death Eaters - one of whom was probably the best duellist Vic had ever seen. It felt like both forever and a few seconds of frantic defense, but the inevitable happened.

One of Dolohov's spells got through, catching her wand arm, and then a second spell came flying, slamming into her stomach. The little girl whimpered behind her as Vic slumped against the wall, barely holding onto consciousness.

"Avada -" Dolohov raised his wand. Vic tried to raise her arm, but it wouldn't move.

" _Expulso_!" suddenly, a jet of blue light hit Dolohov - shattering a shield he pivoted to cast hastily, and throwing him backwards into the other two. Vic watched, dazed, as Ripley raced towards them, followed by a grim faced Sullivan, and Gibson, and Herrera.

Dolohov, then the other two Death Eaters looked at the oncoming four Aurors before glancing the other way in the street. Vic followed their gaze, only to see Frankel and half of the Tactical Response Squad coming up the other side.

"Retreat," Dolohov ordered, before Disapparating with a pop. Two other pops followed.

"Secure the area," Lucas ordered, before running over to her, kneeling next to her. "Hughes!"

"I'm fine -" Vic tried to sit forward, only for the world to tilt dangerously and nausea bubbled up. She vomited, all over Lucas' robes. "Sorry."

"Hardly fine, duelling not just _two_ Death Eaters but _Antonin Dolohov_ on your own," he said tightly, ignoring her. He Conjured a cup of water and held it to her lips. "Are you crazy?!"

"They had the girl," Vic said weakly. "I'm fine, I don't need your help -"

"Sure you don't," he said, but lowered the cup of water.

"Cassandra!" 

"Grandma!" the little girl darted from behind Vic, racing to the older witch who looked - simply put - frazzled.

"Oh Cassandra, are you okay?" the woman asked.

The little girl nodded. "The lady kept me safe," she said, clinging to the woman. 

"Thank you, thank you," the witch said, tears in her eyes.

"S'all in a day's work," Vic slurred, as the world tilted sideways, and went black for a moment. When she regained consciousness, she was lying on the ground, a surprisingly comfortable pillow below her head. She tried to sit up, but a warm hand on her stomach stopped her.

"Don't you remember you just fainted?" Lucas demanded irritably, removing his hand from her stomach. "Lie. Down. That's an order, Hughes. Let Warren finish looking you over."

A cool sensation - not unpleasant, ran down her body, followed by an oddly sharp stabbing headache.

"Ow!" she objected.

"I know, it'll be gone soon," Warren soothed. True to his words, the pain went - and took with it a lot of the head-spinny feeling.

"Oh that's better," Vic said, sitting up, feeling only a little dizzy. (Dizzy enough to not object that both Lucas and Ben hurriedly grabbed her elbows to steady her).

"Area's all clear, Chief," Frankel's voice reported, and Vic glanced over to see the auburn haired woman standing at attention nearby. Sullivan was still hovering. "Fortunately no civilian casualties - just some minor spell damage."

"Travis?" Vic asked.

Warren smirked. "He's fine, just a little singed."

" _Singed_?!"

"Just his hair, Hughes," Sullivan said. "He's fine."

"You, on the other hand," Warren said, professionally taking her chin and shining his wand in her eyes. "Need to go to hospital."

"Okay," Lucas said, his professional voice firmly in place. "Frankel, you and 42 escort the Periwinkles to one of our safehouses and set a guard. They're obviously a target. Sullivan, you and your team coordinate clean up and interview witnesses. I have to head back to London anyway so I'll take Hughes to St Mungo's."

"I wouldn't Apparate with her in this condition," Warren said. "Take her by Floo."

"Okay," Ripley nodded. Warren rose, and followed Sullivan.

"I can stand," Vic said hurriedly, seeing Lucas start to direct his wand at her. "And I'd like some water please." He gave her a look, but picked up the cup of water and held it for her. She took it in an unsteady hand, sipping from it. Vic swilled the water around in her mouth, leaning over to spit it out on the ground.

"What were you thinking, going after three Death Eaters on your own?" he demanded in a quiet, anguished tone. 

"It was just the one initially," Vic objected, before remembering she was still mad at him, and bitterly saying, "anyway, don't you have somewhere that isn't anywhere near me to be?"

" _Vic_ ," his eyes met hers, and she realised belatedly he looked exhausted. "I promise, it's not been deliberate. Anyway, let's get you checked out first."

Vic reluctantly took his hand and let him help her to her feet. She immediately wobbled - Warren had stopped her from outright passing out but she felt like she was walking on air. Lucas wrapped an arm firmly around her waist, and when she tried to pull away, he only tightened his grip.

"I know you're mad at me," he murmured. "But, for Merlin's sake, Vic, let me help you. _Please_."

He sounded so upset that Vic softened, leaning into him as they made their slow unsteady way back towards the pub.

"Vic!" Travis - his hair indeed singed - looked up as they entered. "You okay?"

"Healer Warren mandates I have to be seen at St Mungo's," Vic said dismissively.

"She can't stand or walk on her own," Lucas immediately contradicted her, and she glared at him. He glared obstinately back.

"I'm glad you're okay," Travis said, eyes tearing. "I'm sorry - I couldn't follow you - they had me pinned -"

"I was the one who ran off," Vic interrupted.

"You both did well," Lucas said. "Between you, you held off a half-dozen Death Eaters on your own for about five minutes. That's no mean feat."

"Sullivan said it was Dolohov?" Travis asked. Vic nodded, and he let out a low whistle. "God, Vic, you're lucky to be alive."

"A well timed _Expulso_ ," Vic admitted, shooting a look at Lucas, who shrugged.

"Let's get you to St Mungo's," he said. "See you Montgomery."

"Bye Travis," Vic turned her head and waved as Lucas guided her to the fireplace. Travis waved back, while also waggling his eyebrows suggestively. She was too busy glaring at him to register as Lucas threw the powder in and called, "St Mungo's," and so he took her by surprise in sweeping her off her feet into his arms.

[She was kind of glad he had done, however, as by the time they spun in the Floo she was thoroughly dizzy].

He carried her to the desk, and then they were separated for about an hour while various Healers cast a variety of spells on her.

"The rest will wear off in a few hours," said one of them finally. 

"So I can go home?" Vic asked eagerly.

The witch hesitated. "I'd rather we observe you -"

"Please," Vic said. 

"If there's someone who can watch you tonight, sure," the witch said. Vic hesitated. Her squad would still be on duty.

"I can organise someone from the Auror's office to do that," Lucas said, re-entering the room. "I was just about to take her statement."

"She's supposed to take it easy," the witch warned.

"It's just a quick recount," Lucas said, holding up his hands. "A brief initial statement. She'll have to write her detailed report later."

The Healer grumbled, and forced a foul-tasting concoction down Vic's throat that made Vic feel suddenly exhausted. The Healer reluctantly signed the discharge papers after giving Vic three separate potions to take home for later and confirming it was now safe for her to Apparate. Lucas didn't touch her on the way out as they exited St Mungo's; instead, he waited until they had turned down the alleyway behind the hospital that was the designated Apparition spot.

"Your flat has Anti-Apparition wards?" he asked. 

"Of course," Vic replied tiredly. "I apparate a block away, in the park, in the thicket."

"Okay," Ripley touched his wand to his clothes first, disguising them as Muggle wear, before lightly touching his temple and his face. He was good at Disguise - going for mild alterations in hair colour and jawline that somehow transformed his face. He reached out with his wand and did that same for her, before wrapping his arm around her waist again.

She was wrenched along with Side-Along Apparition to the park. They walked to her flat in silence, and he stepped back as she undid the security wards on her door before going in.

"Statement?" she said, kicking off her boots and shucking her robes unceremoniously.

"We can do that after you've showered," Lucas said, gently nudging her towards the bathroom. She didn't bother fighting - nothing sounded better than a long, hot shower right now.

Half an hour later, he'd practically tucked her into bed with a cup of tea and a bowl of soup, before turning away.

"Wait," Vic said. "We had our first fight, but we haven't finished it."

"We don't have to finish it now, Vic," he said, looking weary. 

"You're wrong - because if one fight's going to tear us apart then there's no point in you being nice to me, or bringing me soup and tea because we might as well just end it now and you can take your cosy jumper and go!"

His face crumpled, and he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her carpet for a long minute before looking up at her.

"I don't want this to end," he said quietly, earnestly. "I ... I love you. But," he shook his head. "I ... this has to stay secret. Can you trust Montgomery?"

"With my life," Vic said easily, immediately. "I can and I do trust Travis. That's not the problem here. You say you love me but in the same breath you want to keep it secret? And for what? For your _job_?!"

"Not the job," he said with a sigh. "For the war. For your safety."

"For my _safety_? I'm a fully qualified Auror, you nit! You know, I'm starting to wonder if you trust me or if you just see me as a disobedient first year -" Vic said bitterly.

"Okay," Lucas reached out to touch her hand. "You have to know, to make an informed decision anyway." He took a breath. "In the first War, the Ministry was heavily, heavily infiltrated. Lots of people were under the Imperius curse, still others were just plain Death Eaters like Rookwood, and families like the Malfoys had - and still have - their fingers in every pie. And that was with a united Ministry. The strength You Know Who has right now - it's terrifying. There's rumours he's planning to overthrow the Ministry - properly overthrow it, not just undermine it like last time."

"And?" Vic prompted when he hesitated, setting her soup aside, concern washing away the fatigue. "That's not exactly a new or secret rumour. It's war, we're all on the frontline."

"I'm a Slytherin," he said quietly, looking up. "A pureblood Slytherin, from an old family. The Lestranges are my cousins. Technically, my second cousins, but it's the same thing."

"All purebloods are related," Vic said, rolling her eyes.

"That's true. I'm Harry Potter's like, fourth cousin once removed or something too," Lucas admitted with a slight smile. "But the point is, if the Ministry falls, I'm in a good position to keep my job and _not_ be Imperiused." He hesitated again. "Promise me you'll tell no-one this - Vic, I promised _them_ I wouldn't tell anyone."

"I promise," Vic said cautiously, after a moment, desperately hoping he wasn't about to reveal himself as a Death Eater.

But no. Lucas might be pragmatic and ambitious but he held no truck with blood purity. 

Right?

"Shacklebolt's Dumbledore's man," Lucas said quietly. "I don't know anything more than that - I don't want to. He approached me, actually, about joining them. I declined. Not - not because I think opposing You Know Who is a bad thing to do - but because I trust Albus Dumbledore about as far as I could throw him. But I trust _Shacklebolt_ , and if his position at the Ministry becomes untenable because You Know Who infiltrates it or takes over entirely, then I will be his inside man."

He looked pained as he said, "and I can't be the inside man, if people know I'm with you. Because that puts you in such a dangerous position, and I'd," he choked up. "I'd do anything to keep you safe. _Anything_."

Horror gripped Vic.

"What about the dangerous position _you're in_?! How do you know they wouldn't just Imperius you?!"

"My parents were what you'd call tearoom supporters," he said, hanging his head. "They donated money to him. Nothing more concrete. I was a Slytherin, and in the first War I graduated. They were trying to recruit me at school - Rabastian was a year ahead of me, we were close when we were young, and he'd Owl me regularly. Dumbledore tried to recruit me too - both sides just after child soldiers," his face twisted in distaste. "I just wanted to keep my family safe. I applied to the Aurors, telling the Death Eaters that I could be their inside man - He didn't have a spy in the Aurors. I told Mad Eye about them trying to recruit me, which is why the old nutter never quite trusted me."

"But you haven't -" her words faded off. "Lucas, have the Death Eaters sought you out?"

He nodded. "Yes. I can't pretend to believe in blood purity, but they're buying that I'd do it out of ambition and self-preservation."

Vic hesitated.

"Just ask."

"I want to believe that you aren't on their side," she said softly, tears welling in her eyes. "But _why_ don't you believe in blood purity, when you were brought up with Rabastian Lestrange? How can I trust which side you're on? Because, Lucas, I'm a half blood, and I am not going to sit this war out - they're trying to kill people like me, like my family."

"Like you said, children are more complex than their Houses," Lucas said, hesitating. "Vic, Jennifer's a Squib. As far as anyone else knows, she died when she was nine of dragon pox. A Healer at St Mungo's falsified the documents. Being a pureblood didn't make her a witch. Being a half-blood doesn't make you any less of a witch, and I've known my fair share of talented Muggle Borns."

"I love my sister. She lives as a Muggle, with a lovely Muggle husband and three beautiful Muggle children who've never exhibited one iota of magical talent. And I _adore_ my nephews and niece. I will die for them. So you don't have to tell me about how they're trying to kill people like you, or like your family, because they're trying to kill my family too," he said passionately.

He looked down at his hands. "I have been busy at work," he said carefully. "It's...crazy, right now. And after hours I've been meeting with Shacklebolt, and Lestrange cornered me near my house on Tuesday, and after that I didn't know what to say to you. Because we _should_ end this, but I...selfish git that I am, don't want to and after today...I needed you to know that I love you."

Vic leaned forward, reaching for his face, and kissed him briefly.

"That was a pretty fucking good explanation," she said wryly, stroking his cheek. "For the record, I'm a fully qualified Auror. I held off three Death Eaters on my own today, one of whom was Dolohov. I'm awesome."

"Yes you are," Lucas agreed easily. 

"You don't need to protect me. I can protect myself. And I don't want to end this either because I'm sort of in love with you too."

He smiled at her through tears.

"You love me?"

"Even though you're a poncy former Head Boy, yes, Lucas Ripley," Vic smiled back at him, wondering when she'd started crying.

"Okay."

"Okay."

* * *

Her next shift on, Vic released the lie she'd practiced for ages.

"We broke up," she announced briskly.

"You looked pretty cosy," Travis sounded surprised. "What happened?"

"Once a Slytherin always a Slytherin," she said, doing her best to sound disgusted. "He was talking about _appeasement_."

Travis' jaw fell open. "What a bastard!" he exclaimed. "What ... ugh!"

"Exactly," Vic replied. "Exactly. So we agreed to end it. And can we pretend I never slept with a Slytherin?"

Travis chuckled. "Okay."

She sighed in relief as Travis bought it. She'd thought about it a lot, but after they'd had what was, quite frankly, the best shag she'd ever had, Lucas had opened up to her about his family. He'd told her about little Jack, and Tommy, and Hannah. About how his brother-in-law, George, had taught Lucas about football and how they tried to go to a live match at least a few times a season.

She'd trust Travis with her life, but Lucas didn't know him, and it seemed unfair to trust Travis with the lives of a family he so clearly adored. It would also help Lucas' cover if someone else had found out or did find out about their relationship. Lucas had been relieved when she'd told him of her plan, immediately saying it would protect her as well - which hadn't been something Vic had really thought about.

And so, as the war raged on, Vic and Lucas continued to creep around. One night, on the pretext of working late at the Ministry, he snuck to the Auror room and stole the blood and hair samples that the Aurors used to track her, keeping them instead in his house so that, in an emergency, he could actually track her. He'd Apparate from his house (as he pointed out, he didn't need Anti-Apparition wards if he was in with the Death Eaters) to the park near hers disguised as a Muggle. He set up a disillusioned quill and parchment system in her closet - like the one he had with Jennifer. 

He took her to meet Jennifer, and Vic found that his sister was delightful and bubbly in a way Lucas rarely was.

As the year went on, despite the secrecy rankling, Vic was relieved to have no outward ties, when their former leader, Pruitt Herrera, was murdered in broad daylight in Diagon Alley. 

Her parents had left the country on her quiet advice, and had settled back in South Africa quite happily. And she and Lucas - officially - had not been a thing for months according to the one person who had known.

Then Albus Dumbledore died.

And the Ministry fell.

* * *

The Auror safehouses had long been abandoned - the term safehouse referred mainly to being unknown to Muggles, but their locations were relatively common knowledge amongst Wizarding Britain. They'd been among the first targets for Death Eaters, and so now the Aurors were controlled centrally out of London.

And, as luck would have it, Vic and her squad were on duty when Rufus Scrimgeour was assassinated. 

It was less than subtle as fifty Death Eaters - not even wearing masks to hide their identities - Apparated into the Atrium. The clerk at the desk managed to activate the alarm before being summarily murdered. The Aurors, Sullivan in the lead, raced downstairs, wands raised, caught behind a scramble of other employees in the lifts.

Scrimgeour was never one to cower from a fight, and by the time Vic arrived, he was out of his office in the main Atrium. Other Ministry officials had all raced from their levels, and Vic watched Arthur Weasley dart through one of the Floo fireplaces instantly. A large number of other Ministry employees were doing the same, racing for the fireplaces. 

It was chaos - and the Aurors were caught in the crowd, reluctant to lift their wands and unable to form up effectively.

_GO VIC_

the words were clumsy, but undeniable as they echoed through her mind. Vic couldn't help but start, looking around to find Lucas.

"-doing here?" Scrimgeour was demanding.

"It's time for you to resign," Pius Thicknesse, sounding oddly wooden, stepped out of the crowd.

Scrimgeour turned, a look of shock. "Pius -?"

"You have been found guilty of gross negligence," Pius said, as if reciting from a playbook. "You will resign."

"Never!" 

_VIC PLEASE GO!_

She finally found Lucas in the crowd, standing a few metres behind Pius. Lucas' face was tense, and as his eyes caught hers he gave a slight nod. Vic looked around, realising that there were a _lot_ of employees with the same look as Pius, and a lot of others like Lucas with their wands down.

The Aurors, already thinned with losses from the ongoing battles, numbered a bare dozen, she realised because there had been a big call out to - 

_Oh_.

_RUN! RUN! RUN!_

"We have to go," Vic said into Travis' ear. "There's too many. We have to warn those who went out on the call, they're setting them up!"

Travis looked around and quickly did the same maths, arriving at the same conclusion, whispering it to Miller and Gibson, while Vic whispered to Bishop and Herrera. Warren had returned to St Mungo's to help Heal all the casualties, and had never been replaced. Vic started to quickly edge with the crowd towards the fireplaces, surreptitiously tapping her robes as she went to disguise them.

" _Avada kedavra_ ," as she spun in the fire place she saw a green jet shoot and hit Scrimgeour squarely in the chest. 

* * *

"What do we do?" asked Miller helplessly, moments later.

"Run," Jack said bitterly.

"We couldn't have won," Sullivan said, emerging from the fireplace in the abandoned house that 19 had set up as a new, proper safehouse. "Outnumbered."

"He's right," Travis said. "The number of people they seemed to have Imperiused -"

"Or had joined willingly," Andy scowled.

"Okay, here's what we do," Sullivan cut across. "We have a day or two while they're consolidating before they hunt people. Go home, get your bag, meet here tomorrow. Don't use the Floo - remember the Ministry controls it and the Ministry's fallen. Okay?"

"And then what?" Maya asked.

"There's been some discussions. There's things we can do, ways we can help," Sullivan said, carefully. "If you don't want to, leave now, go into hiding - better yet, leave the country. No hard feelings, no questions asked."

They all stayed, looking grim.

"We'll be guerrilla sections, essentially," Sullivan said. "Fighting spot fires. Our positions are effectively reversed - we'll be jumping in where we can. The intelligence may be outdated, it may be dodgy, but it's what we can do. All squads have been given a different safe contact, to minimise the risk of collapsing the whole system. We get split up, we go to this lady, Arabella Figg on Privet Drive. It's a Muggle area. Figg will give you further instructions. You identify yourself by asking if she's aware of the All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition, okay?"

They all nodded.

"All right. Go home. Take what you need. Meet here at dawn."

* * *

Vic paced anxiously through her apartment. She'd had her bag ready for months, and had only needed to drop Lucas' quill and parchment set up (in a box, shrunken down and Disillusioned) into a hidden interior pocket.

She would leave by morning, but she hoped, wanted, _needed_ to see Lucas.

Vic was under no illusions. He was in the most danger, and he could die. So could she, but he was playing a risky game at the Ministry by trying to leak information. 

It was close to midnight when a patterned, soft knock on her door, and Vic raced to undo the protective charms.

"Ask me first," he hissed. Vic rolled her eyes.

"That's what the knock's for!" she argued.

"Vic- _toria_!"

"What's my nickname?" she gave in.

"Eggy." She pulled open the door quickly, letting him in, forcing herself to join him in replacing the protective spells before finally, _finally_ , hugging him tightly.

"You're okay," he breathed, kissing the top of her head, sounding relieved.

"So are you," Vic sighed into his shoulder. "All go smoothly?"

He nodded. "Frankel and Shacklebolt blew the Auror trackers to smithereens, and then I handed the Death Eaters a fake corpse of Frankel we made months ago," he hesitated, releasing her a little to pull from his robes a small box. "I'd like to keep yours, so I can," his face crumpled. "I want to be able to find you. But if I get Imperiused or if they find it ... I ...."

"Keep it," Vic curled his fingers around it. "If something happens to you, that way I'll know."

She kind of wanted to be able to track him too, if needed, but knew there was no point. He'd be at the Ministry, being a good little appeaser.

He looked at her for a long moment, then nodded.

"I love you so much," he said quietly and seriously. 

"I love you more than I thought I would ever love someone, Lucas Ripley," Vic said, hanging onto the front of his robes. "When this is over, will you marry me?"

"Obviously."

* * *

It was the longest year of her life.

Half of it Vic barely remembered, between the adrenaline high and the constant fear.

Weeks would go by without hearing from Lucas. [She dropped in when she could to Jennifer, whose house had been warded as much as she and Lucas could, and the two of them sat and worried over a cup of tea as they shared every scrap of his endearingly childish handwriting that had come through on the quill-and-parchment set ups]. 

His messages contained little information - all of that, it seemed, was being leaked down from (presumably) Shacklebolt to Sullivan to the team, and Vic was anxious to keep Lucas' status secret.

[As it turned out, when one edition of the Daily Prophet - that she stole as often as possible - had a photo of Lucas standing behind Thicknesse, Sullivan had gone into a rage. The two had been friends - best friends - once. Lucas later confirmed that the only other people who knew his status were Jennifer and Shacklebolt].

His messages were, essentially, just love notes. Short, scrawled often in a hurry, and with no names. _Missing you_ , he wrote once. _Arsenal won last weekend. London has advantages- Muggle papers everywhere. Love._

He'd warned her not to tell her any details about where she was or what she was doing. So her notes back where the same. _Despite their dreadful showing against Man U? Merlin, it's hungry work. Miss you. XO_

Near Easter, a message arrived that was different. She excused herself from the lunch of stale sandwiches they were having in the middle of the Yorkshire Dales, pretending to need to relieve herself.

_distracted by potter chaos 13 bloody tower will msg every hour until i leave_

It was cryptic enough that had Vic not spent an enjoyable day disguised as a Muggle with Lucas on a date at the Tower of London, pretending to be tourists, she probably wouldn't have gotten it.

She checked her watch. It was 1245. She hurried back to the group.

"What's wrong, Hughes?" Sullivan, unshaven and exhausted asked at the look on her face.

"I heard Snatchers," she lied. Everyone groaned, and got to their feet.

They didn't confront Snatchers directly - there was nothing they could do with them short of dropping them into the ocean. They simply roved, hunting and protecting and smuggling people they could.

"I'll send rendezvous directions by 2200, if not, Hughes, organise a place," Sullivan ordered before they scattered. Vic Disapparated smartly, into the staircase at a nearby Muggle tube stop - ignoring the strange looks as she burst out of the doors of the disused fire escape. She hurried as fast as she could without attracting attention, paid the exorbitant Muggle entry fee without blinking, and raced through the gates, making a beeline for the Princes' Tower.

A firm hand grabbed her by the arm, pulling her into a nook. She forced herself not to cry out, as she was pulled into a familiar embrace, a sharp rap on the head and a cold feeling down her spine telling her she'd been Disillusioned.

"You shouldn't have come," came a hoarse whisper in her ear. "I'm so glad you did, but you shouldn't have come."

"I missed you," she whispered onto his neck, pressing as close to him as she could. " _Lucas_."

He trailed kisses down from the top of her head, and she lifted her face to him. There was an awkward moment as - Disillusioned as they were - he kissed her nose and she his jaw - before their mouths finally met. 

Lucas kissed her hungrily, demandingly, desperately, his hands roaming all over her, pulling her so close she could barely breath. She returned the favour, pressing him against the stone wall.

"How long do you have?" Vic whispered in his ear when they finally broke apart for air.

"The afternoon, I think," he panted back. "There's a situation -"

"I don't care," she replied. "Are you disguised?"

"As a Muggle."

"Okay." The loud _pop_ of their disappearance startled the elderly couple that had just entered the room.

They reappeared in an alley not far from Vic's abandoned flat. Glancing around to find it thankfully empty, Vic hastily Conjured a couple of suitcases on wheels, the sort Muggles used, before removing the Disillusionment charm. She took Lucas by the hand, and they casually exited the alley, heading towards a nearby, cheap Muggle hotel.

Vic quickly paid for a room for the night, barely containing her impatience as the bored clerk behind the counter tediously went through the hotel breakfast options and smoking rules before handing her the key. They went upstairs, to their room, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind them they were on each other, leaving a trail of clothes on the floor on the way to the bed.

* * *

"How long do _you_ have?" Lucas asked, much later, stroking her hair softly.

"Until Sullivan messages. Probably not until later tonight," she replied, snuggling into his chest and enjoying the feel of being surrounded by his warm arms again.

"Messages?" Lucas asked, puzzled.

"Oh, of course!" she breathed. "I couldn't risk it in a note. It's how Shacklebolt communicates - via patronuses."

"Clever," Lucas exclaimed. "Can't be faked. An Imperiused wizard can't cast it either."

"Exactly," Vic paused. "How do _you_ communicate with Shacklebolt?"

"Owl drops," he replied. "Less easy to track who the leak is. Use a quill that produces a generic font."

"So he taught me and Sullivan and Dean how to do it - but Dean's struggled to cast a corporeal patronus this year," Vic explained.

"It has to be corporeal?" Lucas asked.

"Exactly," Vic sighed. "Even in our group only Sullivan and I can do it reliably." 

"Can you teach me?" he asked.

"It'd be more reliable than the note spell if you can get away," she agreed. "You'd know I'd get it quickly. It seems to be about a five minute thing."

"Can others see it?" he asked cautiously, and Vic deflated. 

"Yes," she sighed.

"Sullivan knows my patronus, it would expose me," he said with a heavy sigh. They lay in silence for a few moments, his hand trailing across her bare back. "Show me anyway. Just in case."

It was easier, here, with him. She didn't have to conjure the image of his face and the way he smiled just after she kissed him. She kissed his chest and reached for her wand, sitting up.

"As you cast, you fix the person in your mind and the message," she explained. "The shorter the better. And then you flick like this -" she demonstrated, " - and then swish-jab."

"Okay," Lucas said, sitting up against the head of the bed next to her. He reached for his own wand, and copied the movements.

"Exactly," Vic said, and cast the spell, looking affectionately as the little silver fox burst from her wand, scampering around the bed trailing silver around the small room, before settling near Lucas' knee. _Hey sexy_ , it warbled.

Lucas laughed. "Okay," he said, copying the incantation. Nothing happened, and he looked at his wand in concern.

"Maybe just start with the patronus, it took me a while to get the message part," Vic suggested easily.

" _Expecto patronum_ ," he said again, abandoning the extra part of the spell. A few wisps of grey flowed from his wand. "I can't - I can't cast any more!"

"Hey, hey," she soothed, surprised at how upset he looked. "It's been hard for _all_ of us to cast it. One in ten of mine don't work, and I cast it regularly. Try a different memory."

"That's the one I always used," he said, sounding spell-shocked. "Jennifer playing with Oscar. She loved him."

"Oscar?"

He looked sheepish. "She named my patronus." 

"Well, it's a patronus memory for a patronus generation," Vic pointed out. "Try something else. The way the kids are always so happy to see you!"

He nodded, and frowned in concentration, repeating the incantation. More silver flowed this time, but it wasn't right. He tried again, and again, and again, before throwing the wand down.

"I can't do it," he said, sounding frantic. "I tried thinking of the kids, I tried the ending of the first War, I tried thinking about when you said you loved me for the first time - I can't do it any more."

"Luke, breathe, it's okay," Vic urged. "Lucas. It's okay, it doesn't matter, the notes work fine. Miller can't cast his corporeal patronus either right now, and Sullivan said -"

"What if it's because I'm too much of a Dark Wizard now?" he said, revulsion in his tone. "While you're off fighting evil, I am the evil. People are dying because of me -"

"People have _lived_ because of you," Vic interrupted. "I know you're doing as much as you can. And Dark Wizards can't cast it at all, you're getting silver - and more and more silver comes each time. I see no maggots trying to devour you!" She grabbed his wand, and placed it back in his hand, curling his fingers around it. "Look at me. Lucas, look at me."

He looked up. "I'm here, and I love you, and I know you're a good man," she held his gaze. "Try again. Look at me. I love you. Try again."

Lucas wet his lips nervously.

" _Expecto patronum_ ," he said, eyes fixed to hers, and the whoosh of silver formed into an Artic fox.

"Hey, we match!" Vic exclaimed in delight, watching it happily. "Why didn't you say so?!" She glanced over to see her boyfriend staring at it, mouth agape. "Lucas?"

"I..." he swallowed hard. "Oscar was a husky. A Siberian husky."

"Oh," she said, falling back against the head of the bed. "It can change?"

"Rarely," he said, relaxing a little, and he shot her a teasing smile. "It's your terrible influence."

Vic smiled, and kissed him. "Well, send me a message back."

Grin on his face, he cast again, and Oscar bounded around the room again, issuing the message, _but if he wants to be a fox...a fox he shall be_.

* * *

The next time she saw him was at the end, at Hogwarts.

Shacklebolt alerted them, and they arrived in time to help fortify the castle. Vic felt a strange sense of calm settle over it - this was it. The final stand. She agonised over whether to send Lucas a patronus, but, not wanting to expose him now at the end, instead sent him a message via quill - _HOGWARTS NOW_.

It was chaos.

Pure pandemonium. 

Students - everywhere. Spells - everywhere. 

Vic would never clearly remember those adrenaline fuelled hours. Travis caught a _Crucio_ to the back. Andy was blasted into a wall - landing in a limp, crumpled heap that none of them could check on. She lost track of Dean and Jack completely. Sullivan and Maya hunkered down near a knot of students, attempting to shield them as Vic tried to cover both Travis and herself as they retreated back along the corridor.

They regrouped in the Great Hall after Harry Potter died.

"Traitor!" a sudden yell echoed above the milling crowd of wounded, exhausted combatants, and Vic paused her search for Lucas to see that Sullivan had found him, and had him pressed against the wall, with a wand to his throat. "What are you doing, you _sneak_? How dare you show your face?!"

"Stop!" Vic screamed, pushing aside a couple of students in her rush to get there. "Stop, Sullivan, he's on our side."

"He was behind Thicknesse in _every_ photograph," snarled Sullivan. "You _filthy Slytherin_!"

"He was undercover you idiot!" Vic argued, looking over his shoulder desperately at the staring crowd. "Where's Shacklebolt?! He can vouch for Lucas."

"'For Lucas'?!" Sullivan parroted, voice high, and Lucas grunted as the wand was pushed harder into his throat. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," he croaked. "Sully -"

"Hold," Shacklebolt's voice cut over the fray. "What's going on - Ripley?!"

"Tell him," Vic demanded. "Tell him Lucas is on our side."

"Sullivan, let him go," Shacklebolt ordered. "He's been leaking us information."

"Playing both sides," Sullivan growled. "That's you all over, right Ripley? Pick the winning side, no matter what."

"Right, because spending the better part of a full year undercover in a Ministry of Death Eaters is a safe bet," Vic snapped. 

Shacklebolt's gaze was directed at her for the first time.

"Hughes, isn't it?" he asked, brow furrowing. Vic nodded. "How do you know...?"

"You never broke up with him," Travis' voice sounded from behind Sullivan, accusatory. "Vic...you've been seeing him still?"

"Writing, more like, this year," Vic said, and as Shacklebolt sent her a sharp look, she rolled her eyes. "Please. Nothing about where we are or what we're doing. Lucas was clear about that, in case he got Imperiused."

"Wait, sorry, what?" Sullivan eased up on the pressure on Lucas' neck, and Lucas took in a deep breath. "Wait, _what_?!"

"We're engaged," Vic said stubbornly. "I love him."

There was absolute silence for a long moment.

"Hughes, he's spent a whole year working for them," Sullivan's voice was gentle. "He's telling you what you want -"

"Cast your patronus," Vic interrupted, looking at Lucas, and pressing her wand into his hand. 

"Hughes!" Sullivan said in alarm.

" _Expecto patronum,_ " Lucas croaked, and a silver fox burst from Vic's wand. 

At that, Sullivan's arm fell, releasing Lucas, who immediately stooped to pick up his wand. He offered Vic's back, shaking his hand out wryly as she took it reflexively.

"Your wand is so much more- " he started before Vic cut him off by flinging herself at him. He stumbled back a little, but wrapped his arms around her.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Dandy," she replied, sniffling. "You okay?"

"My throat will never be the same," Lucas joked lightly, and Vic laughed, leaning up to kiss him as she heard Sullivan explain in stunned tones that Lucas' patronus had changed.

"Vic's been a terrible influence on Oscar," Lucas said over her head to Sullivan after they broke apart. "He decided being a fox looked like more fun."

"Well," Shacklebolt sounded amused. "That ... um ... clears it up. I guess." He stuck out his hand. "Welcome back, Lucas."

"Thanks, Kingsley," they shook hands, and Shacklebolt strode away. 

Sullivan looked at Lucas for a long time. "I guess I owe you an apology," he said stiffly.

"I understand," Lucas replied. "I'd've done the same, in your shoes."

Sullivan's voice cracked, a little, as he said, "I'm glad you're here, at the end. Wouldn't have felt right."

"Nowhere I'd rather be," Lucas replied, and he let go of Vic to hug Sullivan. 

"Right," Sullivan broke away from the hug, surreptitiously trying to wipe his eyes. "Now, Hughes..."

"You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady," Travis said, mock-sternly as she took Lucas' hand again.

"It's a long story," Vic said.

"We got time before we die," Jack said darkly.

* * *

[They didn't die. Instead, as the battered squad of 19 strode out - Vic and Lucas hand in hand - they bore witness to Voldemort's defeat along with the the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Army, and everyone who had flocked to Hogwarts to fight the Dark Wizard].

Vic was never quite sure who started it, but she suspected Shacklebolt (who turned out to have a wicked sense of humour) of starting the joke that where the Order and some of the Aurors got Orders of Merlin, Lucas Ripley's reward was everyone forgetting he had breached protocol by sleeping with a Junior. 

Lucas openly and without embarrassment retorted that he'd take Vic any day over a poncy medal.

[Vic was still a bit resentful at the amount of dislike that came Lucas' way; residual from the year he spent in the thick of the Death Eater controlled Ministry. Lucas simply shrugged, and let it go, remarking it was nice to be distrusted by the good guys because he figured he was less likely to get randomly assassinated or tortured than when he was disliked by the bad guys].

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This. Was. Ridiculous. It started off as a silly idea - "what if they were Aurors" - and turned into whatever *that* was!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travis and Vic and Ripley - getting to know each other. Rated G.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I have not watched any of S3 of Station 19. I've seen bits and pieces of (mostly Vic-related plot) fly past on my tumblr dashboard but that's about it. I've picked threads - mostly as my silent Foxtrot Uniform to the showrunners - and played with weaving Ripley into the story. I do not really know the detail of any of these plots, so forgive any bit misunderstandings of what the story was about.

"What's all this then?" Travis asked in amusement as Vic brought in a load of duffel bags. She glared at him, clearly struggling to balance the duffel bag over each shoulder as well as two in each hand.

"You gonna help or just watch, Freckles?" she demanded. He laughed, but came around the reception desk and grabbed the one dangling precariously from her right hand. 

"Seriously, though, what is this all for?"

"My evil witch of a landlady," Vic grumbled as they headed up the stairs to her bunkroom. "With everything that went on with the wildfires and ... before that..."

"Yeah," Travis prompted, as they reached her bunkroom and deposited the duffel bags in a pile in the corner.

"Well," Vic took a breath, looking up. "I may have gotten a bit behind on my rent. So she evicted me. I've had these in the car for ages."

"Wait, you got _evicted_?!" Travis exclaimed.

"Keep up, Montgomery," Vic said irritably.

"Wait, when did this happen?" Travis asked.

"Couple of weeks ago," Vic admitted. "So I kind of moved into Ripley's house, but my stuff's just been in the car. He really wants to go out for dinner tomorrow after shift, and because he can't drive yet I'll have to and then he's bound to notice all the bags in the car."

"You moved into his house? Without telling him?" Travis checked.

"Well, it's not like I'm there a lot. I mean, I sleep at the station three nights a week," Vic said defensively.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but he's your fiance, right? I mean, he's gotta be expecting you to move in at some point?" Travis asked in confusion, watching as his friend gave a big sigh and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, but I mean...I don't exactly sound like a responsible adult, losing my lease cos I didn't pay my rent," Vic said despondently. "And Ripley -"

"You can't seriously still just be calling him Ripley?!" Travis interrupted. Vic shot him a look, and continued primly;

"- and _Lucas_ already said to me that at any point over the next couple of months until we get married that he understands if I want to call off such a big commitment so early in our relationship and this hardly demonstrates that I'm able to commit, does it?" 

"He said that to you?" Travis frowned. Vic had booked the earliest civil registry office wedding she could - it was still a couple of months away. She seemed genuinely excited about it, and had taken Travis dress shopping with her.

"Yeah," Vic sighed. "And then we argued because I was like I don't need an out from this - or _want_ one! - and then I got worried _he_ was looking for an out and then he got all huffy about _that_ saying I shouldn't doubt him and then I got mad back saying he shouldn't doubt _me_ and...yeah. Anyway, he apologised, so it's fine, and he's taking me out to dinner half as an apology half as a date but..."

"And he hasn't noticed you've moved in?" 

"Well, I was spending all my time over there anyway," Vic explained sheepishly. "After he got out of hospital. And he's a bit of a slob anyway, so I put the couple of bags of clothes and stuff in the back of his walk-in. It's such a mess in there, he'll never notice."

Travis tried not to laugh, he really did, but it was hard not to. "Why not just tell him?"

Vic gave him a pointed look. "I don't want him to think I'm flaky," she said quietly.

Travis sat on the bed, and gingerly put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sure he wouldn't," he said. "Besides, recent circumstances as they are - I'm not surprised you slipped up on rent! But you should talk to him. You're getting married, right? This is something that married people talk about. And in the meantime, rather than risking your stuff here, why don't we leave it at mine?"

Vic gave him a grateful smile that took away the bite of the words, "you couldn't have offered before we carried them up the stairs?"

He laughed, clapped her on the back, and stood to take the bags back downstairs and stow them in his own car.

* * *

Vic pulled up in Lucas' driveway, and let herself in after taking a big breath to steel herself. She needed to just come out with it, she decided, and not let herself get sidetracked.

"Hey," she called, the word dying in her mouth as she entered his kitchen, to find him leaning against the counter as normal.

More importantly, two duffel bags were on the floor at the entrance of the kitchen. Her duffel bags.

"Hey, Eggy," Lucas didn't seem to notice that she'd stopped in her tracks. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," she said faintly. "Only one call overnight."

"Coffee?"

She nodded automatically, and then took a deep breath. "I can explain, Luke."

"Explain what?" he asked, pouring them each a cup of coffee into the waiting cups - and she couldn't help but be grateful again for him. Every morning when she got home, he had the coffee machine warmed up and ready if she felt like coffee, and always offered to cook her breakfast (even though she'd already eaten at the station). He pushed one of the mugs into her hand. "Give me your keys, and I'll get the rest from your Jeep?"

"The rest -?" Vic felt liked she'd been blindesided.

"The rest of your stuff," he said simply, and only then seemed to register the look on her face. "I mean, I assume that's why when I finally got around to cleaning my closet like you suggested I found two bags of your stuff there? You're finally moving in, right?" 

Vic opened her mouth, and then shut it again.

Lucas' expression twisted in doubt. "I mean, obviously, if you don't want to that's okay, it won't take me long to repack the bags I just sort of thought while you were at work I could help by unpacking them for -"

"No that's not - I - you don't mind?"

"Mind?" he parroted, looking confused. "Why would I mind?"

And maybe it had been stressing her out more than she'd realised, because to her embarrassment Vic felt tears well up in her eyes.

"Vic?" he asked in concern, reaching to clasp her elbow.

"I'm an idiot," she said, shaking her head, before looking up at him and admitting, "so I got evicted because I got behind on my rent payments during the whole wildfire thing and I didn't know how to tell you."

"When did this happen?!" he exclaimed.

"Couple of weeks ago," she admitted sheepishly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lucas asked, sounding hurt, after a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

"I thought you'd think it showed I was too immature to get married," she muttered, staring at the wooden floorboards in his kitchen.

Suddenly, she felt herself being pulled into a hug. "That's not what I meant when we were having that argument," he said into her ear, squeezing her firmly before stepping back again, suddenly looking tired and old. "I don't think you're immature. I just...I know you didn't exactly sign up for this - you know, being shackled to some old guy with a heart condition who may or may not have a job at the end of his medical leave."

Vic was about to retort that actually, she knew perfectly well what "in sickness and in health meant" when something in his words struck her and she paused. "Lucas, _you_ are exactly what I signed up for. I'm happier now you're all sewed up again, but _you_ are what I want. I don't care if you have a job, and you know chicks dig scars."

He huffed in amusement. 

"Stop waiting for me to change your mind," Vic said softly, tapping his chest. "You're stuck with me now, Lucas Ripley."

Lucas gave her a big, bright grin. "I love you," he said, leaning in for a kiss. "Now, can I have your carkeys so I can unpack the rest of your stuff?"

"It's at Travis'," she admitted. "Just in case you didn't want me to move in."

He threw his head back and laughed.

* * *

Travis heard his doorbell ring and groaned, stretching on the couch and hitting pause on _Indiana Jones -_ "sorry, Harrison," he muttered - before rolling off the couch.

He stumbled to his door - _who_ could possibly want to disturb him on his post-shift Indiana Jones binge - and wrenched it open just as the doorbell went again, squinting into the sun and into the faces of Ripley and a beaming Vic.

"Uh, hi?" he said, looking questioningly at Vic.

"Lucas is happy for me to move in," Vic said, barging past him. "Where's my stuff?"

"In my car still, I haven't unpacked it," Travis said, wincing as a cramp hit his calf. He leaned down to massage it, wishing belatedly he hadn't cycled ten miles that morning.

"Keys?" Vic asked bossily, and Travis nodded towards his key rack. Vic grabbed his keys. "Thanks Travis, we'll bring them back."

With that, the two of them vanished back outside. Cramp gone, Travis gingerly limped (okay, it was only mostly gone) outside to give them a hand.

"Oh, I meant to ask, Montgomery," Ripley said, arranging the bags so they fit better in Vic's Jeep. "Where did you get your bike from? Angie - the cardiac rehab nurse - said I should try cycling."

"I know Angie!" Travis exclaimed. "She suggested it to me after my operation."

Ripley grinned at him, and Travis couldn't help but be impressed for Vic - the guy was really quite handsome in civvies and with his hair a bit of an untamed mess.

"Oh no," Vic said, pausing and putting her hands on her hips. "Not you too!" she directed towards Ripley.

"It's good for my heart," he said innocently. "And I used to cycle everywhere until I got my work vehicle, and then I started using that. Besides, you enjoy cycling too, right? Brakes off on the descents?"

Vic glanced warily at Travis.

"The bike's not allowed inside the house," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Okay?" Ripley agreed easily, sounding confused and amused.

"Ask Travis where he keeps his," Vic said disapprovingly.

"It's one of the most expensive things I own, you think I'm leaving it out here?!" Travis argued defensively, hesitating before adding, "I was actually going to drop by the shop later anyway, to pick up a new water bottle cage - mine's falling to bits. I could come with if you like, give you a few pointers?" It might also, Travis thought ruefully, give him a change to actually get to know the man at whose wedding Travis was standing up as Man of Honour.

Ripley's face brightened, and he glanced at Vic automatically. She threw her hands up melodramatically, "fine," she said mock-huffily, clearly not put out at all.

* * *

Vic lasted all of two minutes inside the cycling store before she sighed and went, "I'm going to go sit and have coffee in the shop across the street. Come get me when you're done."

"Okay, honey," Ripley agreed, pecking her on the lips almost absently before turning back to the road cycle he was looking at with the same level of seriousness Travis had seen the man bestow to stabilising the roof of the barn.

"This is _your_ _fault,_ " Vic hissed to Travis as she walked past, rather unfairly, Travis felt.

Vic had once said that Ripley was very different outside of work. Travis didn't really think that was quite accurate, but then again, he supposed, he'd never had a poor initial reaction to Ripley. Maybe because Michael - who'd been his rookie when Ripley was a Captain - spoke so highly of him.

Or maybe it was because the first time he'd met Ripley - first time he'd properly met him - Ripley had pulled him back from running into Michael's room at the hospital.

"Wait," the soot-stained, weary-looking Chief had said. "Travis, I need to tell you -"

"I need to see my husband!" Travis had tried to break free, but the Chief had held his arms tightly.

" _Travis_ ," the Chief had said. "I'm so sorry. But you need to know; Michael's badly burned."

He didn't remember what else was said that night - that awful night. But the Chief had come with him to see Michael, and had pulled him into a hug, and said he was sorry and seemed to mean it. Then he'd given Travis the room when he'd asked for it, and at Michael's funeral the Chief had said some really nice things.

"Montgomery?" the voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked to see the Chief looking at him quizzically. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he lied. "Just drifted off in thought for a minute. What was the question?"

Ripley repeated the question, and Travis absently gave his opinion on the type of tires he should have on the bike.

Whereas Vic's first impression of him was the peer review, where he'd grilled them. And then her second impression had been when he'd left them in the skyscraper. Travis had continued to attend the peer support group - Vic had only gone occasionally and while he'd been annoyed at the time she hadn't kept going to 'their' thing, he now got that it was weird for her to go.

Because the peer support group was very much Ripley's thing. It was clear he thought carefully about his decisions, and they weighed upon him. Professionally, he was a good man. And personally...

"Vic doesn't have a bike stashed at yours, right?" Ripley's voice again broke into his thoughts. The older man looked amused as he added, "because I haven't noticed one at mine."

"No," Travis replied. "She hires one when we go cycling. Didn't have space for one."

"Hm," Ripley looked thoughtful. "And hires all the gear?"

"She just wears her gym clothes," Travis replied. "Borrows my spare helmet because she thinks it's gross to hire one. We're basically the same size."

"I see," Ripley said. He looked to Jake - the owner of the shop - and said, "well, this bike. But I'll need a helmet, and I'll need to get one for my fiancee too." He saw Travis eyeing him. "I'm not going to buy her a bike; she'll get mad if I do. But I'll buy her a helmet and maybe by her birthday I'll talk her into a bike." The mischievous grin was infectious, and Travis couldn't help but return it.

"I'm just gonna grab her," Ripley said, having picked out his own helmet and one - a green one for Vic. "Make sure it fits properly." Jake nodded, and he and Travis chatted idly about their favourite rides around Seattle - Jake had a suggestion Traivs hadn't actually tried while waiting for him to return.

Vic entered hand in hand with RIpley, coming straight for the counter.

"I considered getting you the pink one with purple dots," Ripley teased, earning him a playful nudge. "But thought you might like that one better? If you'd prefer a diff -"

"Nah, green's my favourite colour," she pronounced, picking up the helmet and trying it on. 

"Shake your head," he instructed.

"Twenty minutes in the shop and you're already an expert?" she teased but shook her head anyway. "Fits well!" He simply grinned down at her, and tapped on her head. 

"Okay, we'll take this one, and the bike, and that helmet too please," he said.

"Thank god, no lycra," Vic sighed in relief.

"No, you gotta get the lycra, Chief," Travis said urgently, and the guy behind the counter nodded. "You don't want chafing!"

Ripley winced at the thought. Vic burst into giggles, and the three men looked at her in offense.

"Don't call him Chief when you're talking about chafing, Montgomery," she said in between laughs. "Go ahead, darling, I don't want any chafing either."

Ripley blushed, but with quiet dignity followed Jake across the store while Travis stood with her with the helmets.

"Can you invite him to go cycling with you, please?" Vic asked quietly. "I know it might be awkward, but I don't want him on his own -"

"Vic," Travis interrupted. "Of course. You could come too." He hesitated before adding, "you know, that's kinda how he found out I knew, remember? I invited him cycling with us."

"I just don't want to hover," Vic said uncertainly.

"He bought you a bicycle helmet," Travis pointed out. "Pretty sure he wants you to join in," he paused for a second before shrugging. "And he said something about talking you into letting him buy you a bicycle for your birthday. He said you'd be mad if he did it now."

Vic let out a bit of a laugh. "Well, he's right, I would've been _extremely_ annoyed if he bought me a bicycle."

"But by your birthday?" Travis needled. Vic shrugged.

"Let's see how long he sticks with it for," she said. "And I'm only riding if we do it at my pace, not your insane one!"

"Well, I wasn't going to take him for a mad dash with his operation recently," Travis replied pointedly.

Their conversation broke off as Ripley approached.

"No fashion show?" Vic asked archly. Ripley coughed uncomfortably.

"I'm only buying it because of what I've been warned of," he said darkly, refusing to say any more on the topic as he went to the counter and paid. Travis opened his mouth to tell her - but then shut it again.

Might be best to let Vic find out on her own that you didn't wear underwear under your lycra cycling shorts.

* * *

They were a few minutes late, for which Ripley apologised profusely, while Vic mock-glared at him.

"It's disgustingly early," she grumbled, adjusting her sunglasses.

"It's 0900, and better to be doing this now than when it's disgustingly hot," Ripley replied patiently. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"I will say, for the record, Travis, my fiance has chosen cycling with _you_ over staying in bed with me this morning," Vic continued to whine.

"We're cycling with you too," Travis felt compelled to point out as Vic swung her leg over the bicycle she'd hired. Ripley simply looked on in amusement. 

It was a beautiful, clear morning. There was a light breeze - enough to keep from overheating without feeling like it was stabbing you with its force.

They took the first part easy; Ripley hadn't been on a bike in some time and it showed. But he quickly got the hang of it again, and soon, was keeping pace easily. Travis let Vic set the pace, figuring that she'd know best how to make sure Ripley wasn't overexerting himself.

They reached the top of one of the hills and Vic paused.

"Race you to the bottom, Hughes?" Ripley challenged.

"You're on, old man," she teased, and immediately started off. Ripley let out a wounded cry, and set off behind her, both of them flying down the descent.

Travis watched them go, waiting to follow at a safe distance. Vic won - unsurprisingly - and by the time he caught up to them she was claiming that her prize was breakfast.

"Second breakfast, you mean," Ripley teased. 

"Shh, don't judge me or my food needs," Vic objected lightly. There were plenty of cafes open in the area, and they found one where they could sprawl on a table outside with their bikes. 

Unsurprisingly, it was Vic who drove the conversation. Ripley stayed pretty quiet, focussed on eating the enormous breakfast he'd ordered (despite mocking Vic's request for second breakfast). Ripley mostly just watched Vic fondly as she spoke, while she kept glancing over as if to check on him.

It was cute.

"I was thinking in the bike shop," Travis said to Vic when Ripley had excused himself to the restroom. "About how much I liked him professionally. And how I wasn't sure about personally - hear me out -" he raised a hand to prevent her from interrupting. "I know you can take care of yourself, but I love you like a sister and I want to make sure you're not being taken advantage of -"

"Lucas would never -" she said fiercely.

"I _know_ ," he replied. "That's what I'm saying, okay? I was fine about you sleeping with him, getting married is a different thing, but he's a nice guy."

Vic looked mollified. "He's the best," she said quietly and firmly. "I'm not messing around. I love him so much."

"Yeah and he's not messing around either," Travis said honestly. "He's head over heels. I probably should've known that from the moment I worked it out, with the way he was looking at you like you were the only person in the room."

Vic blushed and shrugged, looking down and fiddling fussily with her cutlery. "We're happy," she said simply.

"All right, ready to go?" Ripley's voice interrupted.

"Yeah, I'll just go and pay," Travis said after Vic nodded.

"Nah, we got the bill," Ripley waved him off.

"I got cash -"

"Keep your cash, Montgomery," Vic said firmly, standing up from the table. "Consider it thanks for helping him pick out a bike and letting us slow you down."

"Next one's on me," Travis promised. The other two glanced at each other and shrugged.

"If it'll make you feel better," Vic said. "Come on, Travis."

He hopped on his bicycle, clicking his helmet back on, and glanced back to the others. They were exchanging a brief kiss, but they too fixed up their helmets and settled into the bike.

"Lead on, Montgomery," Ripley ordered, and Travis set off back the way they had come. Next time, he'd take them to Discovery Park, he thought.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas' Counselling Service. Rated T for language and some heavy making out.

It felt like it was all falling apart. One of her firefighters was seriously injured.

In fact, if Ben hadn't been there, Maya suspected Rigo would've bled out there on the sidewalk.

Why had she been promoted? Why not Andy? Or even Jack, recent events aside, looking at his bruised face. Then there was Hughes, who'd caught on fire and Montgomery who was hosing her down still while occasionally shooting evil glances Maya's way.

She couldn't talk to Sullivan. What could she possibly say? He wasn't exactly the advice-giving type, and he could cripple her career. And Captain Herrera was out of the question. Oh, he'd be nice and mumble something about her _drive_ (a word she'd gotten familiar with from him on performance reviews) but he'd be unable to give clear advice.

And then her eyes landed on Vic, mostly covered in foam, and an idea sparked in her mind.

_"So Ripley's been suspended for three more months and formally reprimanded and there's all this mandatory training he has to do," Vic said as Maya and Travis hosed her down._

_They both looked at her, and she shrugged. "I just nearly died and I felt I should say something?"_

_"So you decided to talk about the HR findings?" Travis said, trying to hide his amusement._

_"Well, it's either that or talk about all the plans we're working through now that he can finally have sex with me again," Vic said, and Travis mock-gagged._

_"Plans?" Maya asked._

_"We couldn't have sex for like, six weeks," Vic said seriously. "You bet we had plans -"_

_"Ew, ew, ew. When did you find out from HR?" Travis interrupted._

_"Yesterday morning. We both got called in for it."_

* * *

Maya mulled over the idea all night. Technically, Ripley was off-duty, and would be for another three months, before returning to the role of Chief. Maya hadn't worked as a Captain before, but she got the impression from the way Sullivan had handed over that there had been long discussions and negotiations as to what Ripley's involvement with 19 would be. Sullivan was taking most of the oversight role for the station itself.

"Discipline and promotions will be escalated to the Chief if required," Sullivan had said, "except for Hughes, obviously. Everything about Hughes is handled between me and you, with Battalion Chief Frankel as a second Chief if required."

In a weird way, the SFD's insistence on isolating Vic away from Ripley had the effect of kind of doing the same for Maya. Her involvement with Ripley was meant to be minimal.

She didn't know Ripley too well, but her mind kept flashing back to a conversation she'd had with Jack about Vic and Ripley. She'd been angry - at Vic for not telling them anything, and at Jack for keeping it quiet for Vic, and at Ripley for turning out to be a sleazy -

At that point Jack had interrupted. "He's not sleazy," he'd said. "Ripley's a nice guy." Maya had stared at him in surprise, and Jack had shrugged. "I found out about them early on. You think I wasn't gonna check it out? Make sure she was okay?"

Maya had crossed her arms over her chest. "And how did you determine that?" she'd demanded.

"He runs the peer support group," Jack had replied. "I went along. He's a good listener. He seems honest. He's polite. There was a female firefighter there that tried to flirt with him and he brushed her off in a nice way."

"And that's what you based your approval off?" Maya had asked incredulously. "That's why you didn't report it?"

"Hughes is a big girl, and she was into it," Jack had explained patiently. "I found out by accident, and I'm not going to cockblock when it wasn't something anyone needed to know about." He had paused. "Didn't quite expect them to get married eight months later but whatever."

Vic had invited them to her wedding almost as an afterthought. They'd all felt awkward, going, except for maybe Travis who had muttered something about Man of Honour duties and how he quite liked Ripley. Maya had felt more awkward still when at the wedding it was just their shift (including Sullivan) and Ripley's sister.

It hadn't seemed to matter to the two getting married. Vic had looked happier than Maya had ever seen her, and Ripley had looked similarly dazed, neither of them taking their eyes off the other for the duration of the short ceremony. They'd gone out to dinner afterwards which had been a pleasant but quiet affair - Ripley and Vic had mostly talked to his sister, Travis, and Sullivan.

 _"He's a good listener,"_ Jack's words echoed in her head as Maya sat at her desk after a sleepless night.

Maya felt a little creepy, getting his address from Vic's file. [The younger woman had simply filed the paperwork without any comment to update her address and next of kin]. She also wondered if she should say something to Vic, but before she worked out what she wanted to say, Vic - looking dead on her feet after a busy aid car shift - had disappeared home.

* * *

Maya twirled her keys anxiously around her finger, shifting from foot to foot as she waited at the door. Just as she was about to lose her nerve and walk away, the door opened.

Ripley blinked at her in obvious surprise. "Bishop," he said, pushing unruly curls out of his forehead. "Vic's asleep, sorry."

"Yeah, I was kind of...I was hoping _you_ could give me some advice," she said. There was a pause, and she fought not to fidget under his inscrutable gaze.

"Okay," he said, opening the door wider. "Come in."

She followed him down the hall into an open living and kitchen area. It was still odd to see him out of uniform; and odder still to see him wearing baggy, old SFD trackpants and a plain white t-shirt that had a small rip across the left shoulderblade.

"Coffee?" he asked, flicking on the kettle. 

"Thanks, that would be nice," Maya replied awkwardly, overly politely. They were silent as he quickly made two cups of coffee, pushing one over the counter towards her. 

"I am obliged to tell you that while I'm happy to provide informal advice, depending on what this is I may have to refer you to an active member of the SFD command," he said, blue eyes fixed to her. "I also feel obliged to tell you that I will be returning to my former role in a few months."

"I understand."

"Then I'm happy to help," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

She paused, before blurting the words, "would you have promoted me to captain?"

It wasn't quite what she'd planned to say, and Ripley was clearly taken aback by her words.

"I can't answer that," he said slowly. "Mostly because I haven't been involved heavily in evaluating your performance as -"

"Would you have picked Andy or Jack instead? They're more experienced," Maya interrupted.

"I can't say which of you I would have chosen," he said, a hint of sharpness to his voice. "Partly because I haven't been working for almost a month, and partly because there's a reason I wasn't involved." He sighed, looking at her for a moment. "Truthfully, Bishop, if it had been up to me I would've picked the most experienced, most cautious person I knew. And that's why it wasn't up to me."

Maya frowned. "Most experienced and _cautious_?" Caution was good. But too much caution was bad, very bad. Being too cautious meant lower rescue rates, more buildings burned to a crisp.

He shrugged unapologetically. "My wife's in your station," he reminded her. "I want her safe." His smile turned wry. "That's why Sully spent three hours going over reporting protocol with you, and why the SFD's put about five layers of insulation between me and her."

Ripley looked at her keenly. "But that's not advice you've just asked for. Bishop, you got promoted. You wouldn't have been if people didn't think you were deserving."

Maya bit back a comment about the Acting Chief and how he seemed to be interested in making the department look good, instead shrugged. 

"It just...it feels like I don't deserve it," she said slowly to her coffee.

"So you're gonna give up?" Ripley said bluntly, and when Maya's head jerked up in surprise, he shrugged. "Those are your options, right? Either you work out what you're doing and get comfortable with the idea that you're never gonna run a perfect call - you're just going to constantly have to improve, or you quit."

"Bishops aren't quitters," she retorted automatically.

"Okay, so..." he replied pointedly. "What would you do differently?"

"Not put Gibson with Vasquez," Maya replied automatically. "Shut off the gas pipe so Hughes wouldn't catch fire -"

"Sorry?" he interrupted, demanding sharply, and a chill ran down Maya's spine at the look on his face.

"She didn't tell you?" 

"Not about her catching fire," he said flatly. "She told me Rigo was in intensive care."

"Oh," Maya said weakly, compelled to say, "it wasn't really that she was on fire. Just her turnouts."

"You'd better start at the beginning," Ripley's voice was that dangerously conversational one she remembered from the disaster that had been Jack and Andy's peer review.

So she explained, initially haltingly and disjointedly, what had happened as he listened with an unreadable expression. Jack was right, Ripley _was_ a good listener, and once Maya started she couldn't stop.

She told him about the fire at the gas station. About Rigo and Jack's fight in the barn, about sending them off together, about the fight she'd had with Andy at the scene. About how, without Ben being there, Rigo would've probably died on the pavement. 

His expression didn't falter once.

"So, what would you do differently next time?" he asked, when she ran out of things to tell him.

"Clamp the hose?" Maya suggested, her relief at having all her thoughts and feelings out there making her flippant.

"Yeah, clamp the fucking hose if you can't turn the pump off electronically," he said seriously. "In fact, I'd clamp the hose first, then try to turn off at the safety switch - just gives you an extra layer of protection. What else?"

"Not put Rigo and Jack together?"

"That's a given," Ripley said dryly. "But how would you handle that in future? Just not pair them again?"

As she searched for an answer, there was a thump, and she looked over to see a bleary-eyed Vic stumble off the bottom stair into the kitchen. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt - station 88 - and that was it. Her curly hair was everywhere.

"Did we wake you, sweetheart?" Ripley's tone, body language, everything softened as he looked over too.

Vic shook her head. "Water," she said, holding up an empty glass in a salute before tipping it under the water dispenser on the fridge door. She glanced over at Maya, wiggling her fingers in a sloppy wave. "Hi."

"Hi," Maya suddenly felt acutely uncomfortable. "Um, sorry I was just -"

Vic ignored her, instead wrapping an arm around Ripley's waist, tilting her head up to him. He immediately wrapped an arm around her waist. "She tell you what happened?"

Ripley nodded.

"I was gonna tell you," Vic yawned. "But I was worried about Rigo more."

"Okay," Ripley said gently.

"Are you mad?"

"A bit," he admitted.

"At me or her?" Vic glanced over at Maya briefly, before returning her attention to Ripley.

"Bit of both," Ripley said quietly. "You for suggesting and volunteering for it. Her for not clamping the damn thing in the first place and then letting you do it."

"My job's dangerous -"

"And my job is to worry about you -"

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to give me any preferential treatment -"

"I was talking about as your husband." Ripley shrugged. "I'm always gonna worry about you. I'm never going to like hearing that you got set on fire, but I'm proud of you."

Vic grinned at him fondly. "Okay," she said, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. "Come back to bed when you're done."

"Yep," Ripley replied, tugging her as she moved to break away. "Hey. I love you."

"Love you too," Vic replied after he'd kissed her again. She stepped away, and glanced at Maya. "Take your time, Maya." She glanced back at Ripley. "It was my idea, Hubby. Don't be mad at Bishop." She turned and thudded up the stairs again.

"I'm sorry," Maya felt compelled to say as she watched him watch her go.

"Don't apologise," he said sharply. "It's her job. I'll get over it." He paused, before looking at her, pinning her with an icy gaze. "But if I ever hear of you not stopping the fucking fuel flow in a gas fire again, you'll regret it." 

Ripley didn't yell or scream and that somehow made it worse, the very matter-of-fact cold way in which he said it.

"Sir," she replied. He nodded, and moved on. As much as he was a good listener, he also provided great advice, Maya thought. He was clear, concrete, and brutally honest.

"Thanks," she said, after they'd discussed Rigo and Jack's ... situation at length. "For listening and ... sorry to barge in."

Ripley shrugged. "I'm free most of the time, these days," a hint of bitterness touched his tone. 

"Still, thanks," Maya said, feeling awkward again suddenly as he showed her out. "And, um, have a good rest of your day."

"Get some sleep, Bishop," he ordered her in a friendly way, before shutting the door.

* * *

Vic glanced up from her book as heavy steps sounded on the stairs. Her husband was in the doorway a few minutes later, and Lucas immediately crawled into bed again with her. She put the book down on her table, and rolled over to face him.

"I was going to tell you," she repeated quietly, tracing his cheek gently. "I swear."

"I believe you," he said. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Vic said. "Not so much as a hair singed." He smiled weakly at her.

"I love you very very much," Lucas said, leaning in for a longer kiss.

"I love you just as much," Vic replied, her heart full to bursting as she took him in, with his curly hair a duller grey in the dark, curtained room; his soft blue eyes gentle, and his hand so warm on her hip. "I'm okay."

He leaned in to kiss her again, mouth firm and searching underneath hers.

She'd been so exhausted that morning when she'd gotten home that she'd told him about Rigo (well, filled in the detail - she'd texted him last night), cried, and promptly fell asleep. Vic was still tired - a sort of deep exhaustion that she suspected would have lingered even if she hadn't been woken from her nap by a cold bed - but wanted him. Wanted to feel his skin against hers.

There was a sense of peaceful wholeness whenever he held her in his arms that she'd never felt before, and Vic suddenly needed that feeling urgently and fiercely. As Lucas' hands started to roam, pulling her tighter to him, she returned the favour, slipping hands up his shirt and forcing him back for a moment to push his shirt over his head.

Lucas grinned at her, her shirtless hero, and was leaning down to kiss her again when he suddenly paused.

"Did you hear that?" he asked, head tilted to one side.

"Hear what?" Vic asked, dizzy with need.

Then she heard it - the doorbell. Vic groaned. "Noo," she whined, pulling him down. "The Lucas Ripley Counselling Service is closed."

The doorbell sounded again, moments later, and the mood was shattered.

"If it's Bishop tell her she's had enough of your time," Vic said grumpily as Lucas pulled away, pulling his shirt on. He leaned over to press an apologetic kiss to her forehead.

"It might be Mormons?" he said hopefully.

A few minutes later, despite her own disappointment, Vic couldn't help but smirk at the distinctly disgruntled tone to Lucas' voice as he called up the stairs, "sorry, I'll be a while."

* * *

Lucas pushed a glass of water across the counter to the bruised man across from him. Coffee was the last thing the other man needed, he thought. Gibson's eye was swollen practically shut, and he stared at the counter as if in shock. They stood in silence for about five minutes, before Jack, in a cracked voice began to speak. [Distantly, Lucas thought that Eva was an ill-fated name in a wife].

It was easier than Bishop, with her need for answers. Jack didn't need answers as much as he needed a sympathetic, kind ear and forgiveness. The latter Lucas knew wouldn't come from anyone but Rigo Vasquez and Jack himself, but the former Lucas had in spades.

"I've been such a fucking idiot," Jack sighed as he finished telling Lucas about the previous day, resting his head against the counter.

"Yeah," Lucas agreed. Jack snorted in dark amusement. "But you aren't to blame for Vasquez's injury."

"Sure feels like I am," Gibson sighed. "If I hadn't slept with his wife -"

"Yeah, that's fifty percent your fault," Lucas acknowledged readily. "And fifty percent her fault. But how he responded to it? That's on him. If he's not gonna listen to his lieutenants in the field - that's on him."

"Bit harsh to blame the guy on life support," Jack said. 

"I'm not blaming him fully. Swiss cheese of mistakes there, Gibson. What you're responsible for is sleeping with the man's wife. The way he got injured? That was an accident," Lucas said. He sighed. "You still seeing a psychologist?"

"I'd stopped," Gibson admitted.

"You need to see one again," Lucas said as gently as he could. "Jack - I'm not a trained counsellor. I'm happy to support, but I can't provide the help you need."

Jack sighed. "I knew you'd say that."

"I still see one," Lucas reminded the younger man. 

He hated himself a bit for the cold voice in the back of his head that noted that Gibson - once such a promising officer - was on the verge of being unstable, and was definitely unsuitable for promotion. 

At least, not for a while, if ever.

"Thanks for the ear," Jack sighed.

"Any time, Jack," Lucas promised. "But see a psychologist. Promise me."

"I swear," Gibson met his eyes. "Thanks."

Lucas escorted a second one of Vic's colleagues to the door, and opened it for Gibson - only to find Sullivan, hand raised to press the doorbell.

"Sir," Gibson practically yelped.

"Gibson," Sully's voice softened. "You okay?"

"Fine," Jack squirmed.

"Get some sleep, Gibson," Lucas shooed the lieutenant away, catching the grateful glance Jack shot him as he made his escape. "Sully."

"I was hoping for a chat," Sullivan's tone and face were neutral, but Lucas had known him too long and too well to not detect the uncertainty beneath it.

"And I was hoping to sleep with my wife," Lucas muttered, but gestured his old friend in. Sullivan either didn't catch or didn't deign to comment on the double meaning, instead letting himself through to the kitchen.

* * *

Lucas paused in the doorway of his - _their_ \- bedroom. Between Jack's self-recriminations and Sully's self-serving justifications, Vic had fallen asleep again. He tiptoed in, carefully reclaiming the book she'd nodded asleep over.

He would've loved to have just curled around her and slept, but the cups of coffee he'd had with Bishop and with Sullivan had done their trick, and he was too wired to sleep. So Lucas instead climbed under the covers, sitting against the head of the bed, and read.

It didn't take Vic long - it never did - to roll over and curl into his warmth. Her curly hair tickled as it brushed his arm.

He got through maybe four chapters before she started to stir.

"Hey," she said drowsily after a few minutes, and he glanced over his book at her. 

"Hey yourself."

"Lucas Ripley's Counselling Service closed for the day?" she checked, worming her way up his body to rest her forehead against his.

"I certainly hope so," Lucas replied, their noses brushing.

"Good," Vic murmured, before kissing him sweetly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated M. Vic has a bad shift.

In retrospect, Vic should've probably just gone home after - on the first call out - she was vomited on by a patient.

There's vomit and then there's _vomit_. This was the second type.

"Small bowel obstruction," Warren was in the process of handing over, when the patient abruptly turned, and vomited *literal shit* all over Vic as she leant over to undo the straps that secured them to the stretcher.

"Eww," winced Lucas' friend, the young glasses-wearing doctor. Vic shot him her dirtiest look as she desperately tried not to think about what was currently covering the front of her uniform.

Levi redeemed himself somewhat by immediately offering to take her round to the locker room. She followed, and stripped off her uniform, giving it up as a lost cause. Vic would've preferred to practically drown herself in boiling water to get it off her, but settled for a five minute shower, gritting her teeth as she washed her hair without her usual hair products. It was going to look gross.

She pulled on a pair of hospital scrubs; the cotton feeling too-thin against her skin.

She hurried out of the women's locker room, apparently at the same time as a tall, blue eyed man exited the men's.

"Sorry," Vic apologised reflexively.

"That's okay," he smiled, tilting his head to one side. "I don't think we've met. I'm Jackson."

"Vic," she flashed a quick smile.

"You new here?"

"I'm a firefighter," Vic explained. "Got vomited on."

"Oh, that's the worst," Jackson said sympathetically.

"Yeah. Anyway. Nice to meet you," Vic said, gesturing vaguely towards the ER. "I need to get back to it."

"Hope your day gets better," Jackson called down the corridor to her.

* * *

It didn't.

The next call was to a nice area of town, where an upper class suburban mom had called them about her twenty-year-old son. Said twenty-year-old son was clearly high as a kite, and psychotic with it. He snapped when he realised Vic and Ben were there to take him to hospital.

Ben caught an elbow to the face, while Vic got spat at. The only saving grace was that she'd managed to turn her head enough to avoid it going directly into her face.

They had to call for back up to get him sedated.

"Don't hurt him!" his mom pleaded, as Ben helped the SPD officers restrain him, Vic drawing up haldol in a syringe.

"Ma'am, we're trying to stop him hurting _us_ ," Vic retorted, more sharply than she intended. The woman recoiled.

 _Her son is sick_ , Vic reminded herself, sighing. "We're doing what we can to safely restrain him - for him _and us,"_ " she added.

"Just, be gentle?" as those words left her mouth, the young man on the floor bucked, forcing the officers to throw themselves on him again. Vic ignored the woman, kneeling down to sedate their patient.

"I'm glad he's getting help," Vic said later in the aid car as she and Warren returned to the station. "But it's hard not to think that if he were black he would stand as likely a chance of being shot as being taken to hospital."

"Yeah." The two shared a glance and a heavy sigh.

* * *

"What is with today and getting bodily fluids on me?" Vic demanded, exasperated, swinging into the aid car after their third job.

"At least it was a kid?" Ben offered with a wince.

"Yeah, but still," Vic grumbled. 

It hadn't been the kid's fault, not really. She'd fallen out of a tree, hurting her arm. Her mom had put a pack of gauze over her elbow, but called them because of the rapidly enlarging red stain.

In retrospect, Vic should've paused at that point, but injuries to the brachial artery in kids from falling out of a tree were rare. So when she lifted the corner of the dressing to try to look below it, a pulsing stream of blood had gotten on her uniform.

And so here she was, in borrowed scrubs for the second time that day. 

"If this continues, you know what that means," Travis remarked from the reception desk, smirking as Vic stepped back into the station.

"No," Vic pointed at him. "No, no, no. Don't even say it."

"Don't shoot the messenger," Travis said, putting his hands up. "It's not my fault."

"It's the universe's," Vic grumbled darkly, stomping to the locker room to change her scrubs for the uniform. 

* * *

"Did you want to put a spare uniform in the car, Vic?" Ben teased over lunch.

"Not funny," Vic glared at him.

"Wait, does this mean - ?" Jack asked, hope lighting up his eyes.

"I think it might -" Andy said, smirking at Vic.

"It's been just one morning!" Vic said defensively.

"It's been a bad morning though..." Dean said. "What is that, your second uniform of the day?"

"Third," Ben chimed in.

"It's just been a bad morning," Vic said. "You can't transfer _it_ , Gibson."

"Yet, Hughes. Can't transfer it _yet_."

* * *

"Mrs Lewis, can you hear us?" Ben pounded on the door of the little cottage. No answer.

"Can't respond, probably," Vic said grimly, her lunch sitting uneasily in her stomach. She hated these kinds of calls. Mrs Lewis had phoned 911 after a fall. But she'd told the operator that it had taken her a long time to crawl to the phone. She'd fallen on Monday. It was Wednesday.

Unfortunately, that was all too common. At least it meant that she was still alive.

Ben's second knock also produced no response. The two went around, checking doors and windows, none of which were open. They reconvened at her back door, and Vic hefted the halligan. The door popped open easily, and they entered.

The smell told them where to look. Mrs Lewis was lying on the floor, her left leg twisted outward, virtually confirming a fractured hip. She was covered in excrement, pale, and cold to touch, looking all the world like a corpse.

"Mrs Lewis?" the old lady's eyes flickered open. Not dead yet. 

"It hurts," Mrs Lewis whispered. 

Ben and Vic were as gentle as they could be as they hefted her up. They cleaned the worst of it off as quickly as they could, and Vic came back with a clean nightgown that they quickly exchanged.

And like that, she was onto her fourth uniform of the day.

* * *

The dog park was busy with the after school rush; and loud with the yipping of dogs and a loud, shouted argument. SPD had beat them there, and were clearly trying to calm things down.

"Your dog just went nuts and attacked - !" one woman shouted.

"Well _your dog_ -" the argument was obviously continuing.

"Look at my son's face!"

The boy, an early teen, was lying on the ground, groaning. His face was pretty well mauled. Warren quickly inserted a drip and gave him a shot of morphine while Vic checked over and made sure there were no other injuries. They transferred him to the stretcher.

Moving out from the scene felt like it took forever, because their patient's mother was seemingly more interested in arguing with the owner of the other dog than actually accompanying her child to hospital. Vic was on the verge of giving up and just transporting him without her when she finally gave in.

"You're having a busy day," a voice interrupted as Vic tried to finish her paperwork. She glanced up to see Jackson smiling at her. "This is like, the second time I've seen you?"

"Fourth transfer, actually," Vic replied, looking back down. She could feel his gaze on her still, so she looked up again, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, feel like a drink after a busy shift?" he offered.

"I'm married," Vic blurted, pointing awkwardly to her finger. "No."

"Ah," he looked down. "Can't blame a guy for trying. Hope the rest of your shift is okay."

Vic watched his retreating back and glanced over to where Warren was smirking at her. "I feel that implies that he noticed the ring and still hit on me?"

Warren's smile was wry. "Marriages don't last long here."

* * *

By the time they finally sat down to dinner for the third time (the first attempt at dinner was aborted by a call out for a woman in labour, and the second had been for shortness of breath), Vic was exhausted.

"Duh dun da naaaaah," Jack exclaimed grandly, walking into the room with a clumsy paper crown.

"No, come on," Vic objected.

"Vic, you guys went to fifteen calls today," Maya said firmly. "Like...that's almost double normal."

"Warren went too!" Vic whined.

"Who's on their fourth uniform of the day?" Andy said pointedly.

"It's definitely you now," Travis agreed.

"Jack's had a good few shifts," Ben added.

"You traitor," Vic muttered to him.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court," Jack pronounced grandly. "It has been my supreme dishonour to serve you these last three and a half months. However, all bad things must come to an end, and it is now that I have the relief to announce that my successor is Victoria Hughes!" Gibson placed the paper crown on her head. "May she serve as our new Shit Magnet with grace and diligence, and may I not be rostered with her until her reign is over."

Vic groaned loudly as the others applauded and cat-called.

* * *

Lucas' phone beeped, and he reached blindly out for it. Since being suspended (technically, 'put on extended medical leave', but it smarted anyway) he'd taken a deliberate pleasure in luxuriating in bed. If Vic wasn't working, he got up when she did, and if she wasn't, he got up just before she got home. And so - while he woke up still at about 0530, he didn't usually get out of bed until a decadent 0730 at the earliest.

 _Busy shift will be home late I love you_ , Lucas frowned, blinking blearily at the message.

Vic wasn't one to generally text things like 'I love you'. Neither of them were. 

He rolled out of bed and made himself a coffee. Then headed back to bed, sitting back against the headboard with his book. It was a good book, but he was distracted, glancing at his watch every few minutes as if that could speed her return home up.

Lucas had read barely three pages when he heard her footsteps on the stairs over an hour later.

"Hi," Vic said, looking tired. She stripped off her jeans, and Lucas set his book down on the bedside table.

"Want something to eat or drink?" Lucas asked, eyes automatically checking her over for injury. He couldn't see any. Vic shook her head, coming to bed and climbing in. "You okay, honey?" 

Vic didn't reply, instead she tucked her face into his neck and draped herself over him, a long, smooth leg worming its way between his. Lucas waited, wrapping an arm around her waist in turn and stroking the arm she'd flung across him. She let out a deep sigh, warm breath tickling his neck.

He wasn't sure how long they lay there in silence - nor did it really matter when he had his wife tucked against him, safe and warm.

"I love you," he said quietly.

Time passed.

Eventually he felt her pulling away, and he rolled onto his side to face her.

"So, I'm the new shit magnet," Vic said, with false brightness. "Like, we had a super shitty day."

"Not Gibson anymore?" Lucas said, as she seemed to be waiting for a response.

"Nope," Vic sighed. " _I_ still think that one lousy shift shouldn't be enough of a streak of shitness but I was outnumbered." Her voice was bitter. "Guess how many uniforms I went through?"

"Three?"

"Four," she said in disgust, and Lucas winced. "Yeah. Some guy with a bowel obstruction, vomited shit all over me. Threw that uniform away. And then there was this kid with an injured brachial artery from - get this - from falling out of a _tree_! Like seriously. What the fuck. And then...what happened...oh yeah, old lady, on floor for days, urine and faeces everywhere. And I got spat on by a crackhead."

Lucas tried not to react, he really did, but her eyes narrowed. "Lu- _cas_! Don't you dare agree with them!"

"It's a...very bad day," he agreed. 

"But you need more than one bad day to make it of Magnet proportions! It's supposed to be a long streak! It took months for us to agree it was Gibson."

"Gibson's just trying to pass it along," Lucas agreed solemnly.

She narrowed her eyes. "Anyway. Yeah."

There was something else, he could feel it in the way her fingertips were digging into his chest a little. He brushed hair out of her face and waited.

"Do you ever think," she began, staring at his sternum. "Do you ever think, what's the point of all this?"

"The job?"

"Yeah. I mean, people die. Everyone dies eventually."

"We can delay it."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Point," she sighed, tapping his chest. "That's a - you have a point." A beat passed, and she lifted her face to his, eyes tearing. "There was a fire last night. We all got called to it. I was on aid car."

"When we got there, the house was up. Totally alight. The owners had just beaten us there. He was trying to get in, just ran to the front door and was trying to kick and push it down. It was one of those screen doors, you know."

"We pulled him back. He had partial thickness burns to his hands and forearms. He was hysterical. So was his wife. They'd left their kids at home - the older one was thirteen, the middle one was ten and then the youngest was seven."

Lucas inhaled sharply, hand tightening on her waist. He shifted to tangle their feet together.

"Just," Vic took a deep breath, eyes filled with tears. "Just, what's the point? You think of all the frequent flyers that are assholes and yet are _always fine_ , or the drunks that survive insane accidents, while _three children burned to death_ last night?"

She seemed to be waiting for an answer. "Maybe because," he said slowly. "The world is so shit. The universe is so unfair. We're trying to make it fairer?"

"Do we?"

"I don't know," Lucas said honestly. "But you made a difference to those kids' parents."

"I couldn't even look at them properly," Vic confided quietly. "The look in their eyes was just..."

Lucas nodded. Bleak, hollow, angry, numb, surprised...scared. "I know," he said. "And you can't lie and say that their kids wouldn't have been scared and in pain as they died."

"Exactly, that's exactly it. They _know_. They sort of watched their kids _burn alive_. How do you even -" she broke off, gesturing in frustration.

"Come here, baby," Lucas reached for her and Vic came willingly, tangling their bodies together closely.

"I don't want to be found on the floor days after breaking my hip," she said into his chest.

"You're stuck with me, honey," Lucas said. "I'll call 911 for you."'

"Yeah," Vic traced the scar running down the centre of his chest, and he grabbed her hand and kissed it.

"Yeah," he promised more forcefully. "I'll call 911 for you." It wasn't necessarily something he could promise, and they both knew that, but she relaxed anyway in his arms.

"Okay," Vic exhaled. "So. Had better days. I'm a shit magnet I guess."

"That's up to the universe," Lucas said. "Not your fault."

"I know," she said, but squeezed him tighter anyway. "Thanks, baby." Lucas simply kissed the top of her head in reply. He was going to miss this when he went back to work. Miss this unrushed and precious time in bed, being each other's cover. Miss the way Vic was vulnerable after a shift in a way she never was otherwise, and how she trusted him with that. [Yeah, he'd still see her after some shifts, but not all of them, and not with the time to lie and hold her and listen].

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll Cover You - Rent


End file.
